1  This adds a week to the original fortnight.  The poet's work ethic is nothing like it once was.  Despite such disregard for propriety, no crime has been committed.  "Trial," in this instance signals less a matter for jurisprudence and more something along the lines of the time trials at Indy, or a test in which padlocks are shot with police revolvers.  Jeopardy, double or nothing.  Battle of the Network Stars.

2  Gender pronouns are all that remain to the poet of humanism's eros.  In other words, "Where are the characters?"  To which the poet replies with type elements.  Or else the pose of irony is itself undermined, and someone gets there ahead of you, i.e., there are bodies in the wreckage after all.

3  The poet wants this footnote to read "See no. 2, above."

4  Rimbaud, A Season in Hell: "Ah, I've taken too much of that: still, dear Satan, don't look so annoyed, I beg you!  And while waiting for a few belated cowardices, since you value in a writer all lack of descriptive or didactic flair, I pass you these few foul pages from the diary of a Damned Soul" (Schmidt translation).  The poet wishes you to find the self-conscious and trite poeticism of the citation charming and ironic.  In fact the passage is in deadly earnest, but only so long as the funhouse mirror of all this "description" and "didacticism" remains properly positioned for the maintenance of your misrecognition.  The poet thinks this a double reverse worthy of the state wrestling champion, one hundred twenty pound weight class.  If the function of irony is to establish distance, then this sort of meta-ironic hiptoss builds the kind of stadium in which you can emerge into your vocation of spectatorship, watching from the nosebleed seats where even the poet looks damn fine in a spandex singlet.

5  You don't bring me flowers, but take this as a love song anyhow.