After midnight, when my inner voice
is whispering in tongues,
I remember that the poets of new thought
are forever in the future.
I never hear what’s said,
only echoes of what isn’t.
~⊕~
After midnight, when my inner voice
is whispering in tongues,
I remember that the poets of new thought
are forever in the future.
I never hear what’s said,
only echoes of what isn’t.
~⊕~
“What is obvious is misconstrued,
true mysteries are left to the noisy unaware
and the subjectivity of the softly subjunctive.”
Should I venture an opinion?
In Efedrina’s study of terrestrials,
I was merely an experimental subject.
I chose simplicity.
“I’m going to the supermarket.
We’re out of cat food.”