The Obliteration of Today

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Your syntax disrupting

even the bluest

of skies, and the deadline’s

urgency could not

even distract the air

with its calming deficit,

with its exact message

meant for you on this day

of this month of this year.

The clouds confused

with the grass, mixed up

(not mistaken) and driving

through the iris suddenly

(a part of you, briefly)

but now behind your vision

(a field, also) and the world

is best known as a bullet

with no direct target,

though we all know

the eaves of our lives

grow extinct as we move

further and further away

from away-ness: distance

a sense worth sentencing.