flecks ever dumbening flecks of bone float around a broken hip, a ninety-nine year old hip. flecks of blood fly from a knife at a neck; an image of impermanence becomes a permanent image. flecks of water, thinly high above, cast a vague shade, an eclipse-like shade on this perfectly halved day. flecks of poison, self-inflicted, swim inside now body now mind. flecks of past and (im)possible futures tango in last night's dream. flocks of long-necked birds, white with black wing bars, start across the morning sun, reminding the mind. 040922 what's it to you? who go blather from