It was morning for days afterward
The telephone poles and wires whipped and sparked

The way they unfold like the breath, pierce
You can fall a long way in sunlight

The white balcony, the pine needle’s shadow
Impossibly doomed and graceful and obsessed

Is the psyche bound to the body?
Icing of debris over orderly fields

Barnacles on memory’s exposed pier
The way pain fades to the memory of pain 

Slicing the orange flesh of the papaya
O life, life, you are such a muchness!

I searched for more footage of the massive waves
It was mourning for days afterward


This sonnet is made up of 9 or 11 syllable lines cut from old poems—
a looser form than the poet Jericho Brown’s form of the Duplex  - 
(a combination of the sonnet, the ghazal, and the blues), hence “Looseplex.” M.N.