by
Matthew Carr
The words continue to do their own thing and just happen
to be the instrument to make them visible for me and quite
possibly one day the rest of the world, if that is the manner
that I have to get my point, small as it may be, to the world.
As a new page is suddenly inserted into my machine somehow
through my double handed, double vision, double horoscope
sign reality that somehow my sense of what is normal will be
accepted by someone out there on this lovely harsh place that
I happen to be walking around in
every day.
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