By | 1 July 1998

Who ate the rest of my portion, where has the new purchase gone,
When are we stopping to have a rest, sentences missing their mark,
Moments passed waiting, no reply.Who wrote your autobiography,
Where is the South China Sea, what were you doing at the toy museum,
Sentences best left for others, post-modernists, those who might actually say.
Why does it rain then stop, how does the grass grow up,
What is the radius of the solar system, sentences that demand an expert,
For which the Italians reply Boh! Is this the centre of the world,
Are we standing in the main street, am I in my right mind,
Sentences eliciting a straight yes or no without any further to go.
We put our heads forward in this chancy world, there is no way
Of knowing, no way that’s for sure, sentences children dream upon,
Phrases that together sway like trees.What is the missing letter,
What is this line about, you can’t be serious, can you,
Sentences that imply a hidden intent, where something more must be meant.
Why did you say such a despicable thing, do you think the world owes you a living,
How much longer can this go on, sentences you don’t want to hear,
Hazards for the unthinking majority. Can we be born again,
Are you the one for me, is this what we came to see,
Sentences begetting others more impossible than those that began.
Is this all there is to a party, why am I the Wilde of staircase wit,
And shall my pilgrimage reach a centre, sentences no one should ask,
Not that this stops them, not that we don’t see the contrary instanter.
Who are you, what is this, where is that, when to, how come and why not,
Sentences we have heard too much from, sentences, sentences, sentences, sentences
Walking around in a circle hoping to find the step in or out.

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