gertrude buttons alice
palpable alphabet
I am language to my finger tips
let the nouns speak for themselves
substance is a cushion
sudden slice changes the plate
the wisdom of necessary distances
bound sequiturs swerve words
rounding corners of sense
rhythmically propelling
wriggly boxed-in logics
the quotidian waltz
(3.i.09)
1 comment:
wow... as one poet to another, I'd like to say I wish I had written that.
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