"I am not quite sure what you mean by 'being on the brink of form."
"It doesn't exist, it is a mirage." -Jason Snyder
The proud and the naive pop reasons like raisins.
Raising the call of inspiration, a reaching treble
Which uses clauses from the book that nods and claws and routes
The crowd of loud patrons distilling verbs like "cousin"
And adjectives like "me" into a spoiled whine
"See a brother or mother who might have sprung from a
fictive and sequential fount", they will say.
"Hear a dip and dial, a trial by which we are saved", they will say.
Say, say, say it! Say that mirrors listen and microphones feel.