Sat. 10/12/2013

Hah. Just tried to write a poem but it would

not write. Speeled (!) spelled "write" as "rite"

Right as rain.

Alright. A semi-static, classic pose, watching

the dirty fog drift. Leaning slightly to the right

I notice. As if I cannot--

    cannot right

myself

             As if stroked

by a heavy feather    Tired Sounds of the Lid

playing out across the rooms

many low and mournful horns

                 An invitation to which I am

a writer gone to;

in other worlds, gone to visit

a self governed 
            much better than this 
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