15.vii.21
560
2.195
blind writing
dizzy with the world
to which I wake
meet me
glyph-witted
in which the weather
stray signs uncloven
tell the track
wildly blind
follow puppy-round
hubris misted
nothing automatic
a-semic
no muse
nor block
nor pinhead angels
fantastic light singing
myself as starburst
godly to be
better and better
towards an end
ink won’t dry
eyes wide
never knowing
what I’ll see or say
a pleasure to meet you
here
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