BORGES

On the very same day,
at the exact same time,
out of the bay blue sky…
on the same pink corner

Bely’s frayed nerves blinker
until they blinker out
into an inaudible symphony

wherein Erik Satie cobbles
Bach back to life
and just as

Cervantes falls off
his voluble brown
horse–like Pythagoras

on his ass, to observe ‘the…the minor
harmony and clash of the spheres.’

 
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Kudos
 
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Kudos

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REAPER

Out from beneath the red eye of some whirlwind’s squall Of (yes) dandelions and ballerinas, I found myself, yet again, Cracked bright by that religious instant If not needled out of the sunlight’s squint–spit quite Beyond the semblance... Continue →