data

[busker]

I have a bad habit of editing while the paint is still wet:

I have married
a whole neighborhood
in subsidy. A good wife
has been married
like that before, whole
blocks given over
to the veil.

If I go the city blocks,
their moods cause me
such grief

they do not
drink of the marriage
glass they do not
eat my gift

I painted after
them a still-life
of pheasants / unworked
on the table
a gift to witness it
wooden like trees before
they came to me in marriage.
———————————
Original, old version:


I have married
a whole neighborhood
in subsidy. A good wife
has been married
like that before, whole
blocks given over
to the veil.

If I go the city blocks,
their moods cause me
such grief 

they do
not drink of the marriage
glass they do not
eat my gift

I painted after
them a still-life
pheasants / unworked
on the table
to witness it
wooden like trees before
we built our house.

I get the impression that this is being written by a data centre personified 
But it can also be read in a variety of different ways, and that’s too ambiguous for my liking. I am left scratching my head about what the poem was really about. It’s one thing to be readable at different levels, but too much of that and it feels an inchoate thought.