Towards the end of a poem in three mandala sections ("Tiger") there is this arresting bit of typographical ingenuity.

A few strokes and the "attempting" becomes "tempting". There are many lines to treat the cascade of words. One is the periphery of the circle: "edge / where / someone is / always / cutting loose". Another is to preserve the horizontal line by line progression while ignoring white space between the words: "someone is attempting the / always nemesis / cutting loose." The very action of striking out letters is a sort of cutting loose. And so the poem folds upon itself. Tempting attempt at reading the locus — "at". A displacement.

Michele Leggott. Swimmers, Dancers (1991).

And so for day 2047