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62.1

The censer drops its six.
If you strain your eyes, you’ll see me,
But you’ll never smell me.
They call it censorship.
The waves’ liturgy,
A horizontal cosmos
Tested by fools who should’ve left
The stairless depths
To the sharks.

62.2

The censer drops its six.
If you strain your eyes, you might see me,
but you’ll never smell me.
They called it censorship.
The brackish plainsong,
a horizontal cosmos
tested by fools who should’ve left
the stairless depths
to the sharks.

62.3

The censer drops its six.
If you strain your eyes, you might see me,
but you’ll never nose me.
“Censorship.”
Brackish plainsong,
horizontal cosmos
plumbed by fools who should’ve left
the unstepped depths
to sharks.

62.4

The censer drops its six.
If you strain your eyes, you might see me,
but you’ll never nose me.
So-called censorship.
Briny plainsong,
a horizontal cosmos
plumbed by fools who should have left
                         the unstepped depths to
                                                  sharks.

62.5

The censer drops its six.
If you strain your eyes, you might see me,
but you’ll never nose me.
So-called censorship.
Briny monophone,
a horizontal whole
fished by fools who should have left
                         those unstepped depths to
sharks

62.6

The censer drops its six.
If you strain your eyes, you might see me,
but you’ll never nose me.
So-called censorship.
Briny monophone,
an outer space on Earth
fished by fools who should have kept
                    those unstepped depths for
the sharks

62.7

The censer drops its six.
If you strain your eyes, you might see me,
but you’ll never nose me.
So-called censorship.
Briny monophone,
an outer space on Earth
fished by fools who should have left
                    those shallow waters to
the lookdowns

62.8

The censer drops its six.
If you strain your eyes, you might see me,
but you’ll never nose me.
So-called censorship.
Briny monophone,
an outer space on Earth
fished by fools who should have left
                    the shallows to the look-
downs’ gazes.

62.9

The censer drops its six.
If you strain your eyes, you might see me,
but you’ll never nose me.
So-called censorship.
Briny monophone,
an outer space on Earth
fished by fools who should have left
                    the shallows to the look-
downs.