Crazy Quilt

All I every got was a headache
Trying to find where each scrap ended
The edges scintillating against focus
Lengths drifting from each measurement

When the pieces won't lie smooth
My best stitching can't force their consent
To be ordered within my borders and submit
For binding like reasonable objects

The rags migrate by unforgotten relationships
Hiding or changing places with mismatched squares
Turning partners with far away fringes
But refusing to agree with their neighbors

Tight gold thread seems to mask their writhing best
Although loose twine gives more honest results
Anchoring the fabric roughly to my intentions
To flicker to its own kaleidoscopic memory