Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Just a Little Wrong

Three astral beings – casual acquaintances –
invited their elusive selves into the anteroom
where I keep several shelves of liminality
which sort out the peripheries of reverie

that make up most of my odd mind. As usual
they couldn’t find what they were looking for
and so they didn’t stay for long. I always seem,
with them, to get things just a little wrong.


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