Epistrophe: What They Don't Get

 What They Don't Get

They don't get 

I was speaking two languages.

They don't get 

I was DV homed.

They didn't get 

how universal disapproval

comes to land in the bottle

and I. 

They didn't get

they got it wrong.

They didn't get 

mistakes have scale

and error in fracture.

They didn't get 

the chance to voice

their uncertainty.

They didn't get

heard sneaking off, 

their hand hot

with cross line.

They didn't get

a clean escape.

They didn't get

the screed of codes.

They didn't get

much past the

world's feast.

They didn't get

the dead beast.

They didn't get

A holistic shit.

They didn't get

the specs for

grief, army of angels

and the hole in the night sky.

They didn't get

the curve's equation.

They didn't get

the deadline.

They didn't get

the flat art. 

They didn't get

silent flowers.

They didn't get

they fit perfect,

instrument for machine.

They didn't get 

its location.