By | 1 May 2014

read the poem many times
wasn’t sure i liked it
a bit landscapey
like walking west at sunset
not deletionist enough
too bound in boundedness
probably best viewed at random
kind of poem that doesn’t return calls
but nevertheless keeps talking
with its heavy mouth
as if silence needs feeding
poem written but not coded
no anarchy postcard
trying to tune the light
rather than lick the room
or trying to lick the room
rather than tune the light
too many free hits
not enough chanting
or maybe i’m just reading out of my depth?
maybe i fail to see its wild seed
or things i don’t want to see
looking in at me
maybe this poem’s
the very beginning of beginning?
wait here
i’ve gone to get help

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