Sunday, 1 July 2012

A Week's Work Poem

Through the medium of writing, I made a world.
It took me a week.  The heart opened, and
unopened in its mundane cardiac manner.
The drum-tattoo lived, rattlesnaky, on the keys;
And it was done.  What's best: my world has this
one advantage over our's: its pure unknownness.
Further away even than death, the undiscoverable country

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