There was a total dearth of reason and an equal lack of rhyme.
Were it progress could we move to half a dearth?
To a double dearth? Could n-dimensions plot the slant of trailing rhyme?
I thought not. Nought thoughts have a way of stapling
up and stitching down until all that’s nought is lost
among cacophonies of never beens.
Earth Tourist
recently posted poems by alan reynolds
