The stench of it sickens the worms
And the pull draws mountains and men
Reimagined tranquility
Down to your knees in it
//
I’d drown in it
Gladly die in it
Something else, innit
//
But for a curl and a dream and a whim
Build up breeze blocks
Bury the magnets in piles of spinach
//
Tie my legs down
Hands to the frame
Wash me
Sit tight
For an unknown name
2 responses to “Wrung”
Your work is inspiring, hard to grasp but rewarding if you do.
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Thanks so much!
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