The unheard B-side
at least the singer tried.
The second thought, a philosopher in his knot.
Overture and the Cellist crosses the line.
The freewriting hand, left unobserved by the others;
The eyes- no focus on the spelling ink.
The mind- no preciseness to the syntax or type.
the left hand- no intercourse with the right.
A schism of soul and spirit, as muscles cramp to quicken the train steaming on with a flourish of cursive deprivation.
Pushing and yearning to endorse and laud the lightest curiosity of ...you.
A lost gnostic spark
Spots of glitter in your eye
the devils fiery dart
lonely dying housefly,
my need for twisted detailed art,
red kite forgotten in the park.