No Epilogues

 

There are no epilogues, and forget about disclaimers

Prologues—all context fogs, jump nets to catch complainers

Who blame it on the frame, enlist prefigured stricture

To tame ideas with names, and miss the bigger picture:

Fiction’s one affliction—the selfish referential;

The careful orchestration of happy accidents.

Inherent contradictions, the paradox potential—

The force of integration into the pleasant tense…

Resolution—what intent meant and where it coalesced.

Revolution and commencement—non-return but self-addressed

The post-convention arrival game, being beyond the oracle

In the fourth-dimensional spiral planes, the here-zontal and vortical.

Irresistible forces, incontestable truths

Ever mythical sources, indigestible proofs

Wonder flowing as normality, the cosmic soup a-stirring

Undergoing the formality of actually occurring

Descriptions fail. The message has passed, arriving before being sent.

Comparisons pale.  The presses have crashed.  Life’s an evolving event.