No focus...
I go for the focus -
instead find the edge...
Can't see any centre
as much as I stretch...
I find no defining
or pattern that's nice...
Just teases of echoes -
splice after splice...
I wade through the cryptic -
and drown in it's pain...
My head - near explosion -
getting close to insane...
The lines are lopsided
with words falling free...
And gaps glaring - nothing -
on a page of - maybe...
Joy Weare,
23rd June, 2011.
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