I.
Capture me,
You Sistine hanging,
Sculptor’s gold gone snagging
Why mistake the steroid whore
Misplaced among the sewer
Notice that the posies poise, your lenses maladjusted
A sullen splinter splits the way
A swear beneath the preacher

II.
We nearly are,
The litheness says
Charcoal,
Thinker’s wall
Coat unwanted, dull the stone
Wisdom chose the stem