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Hallowed
are the dreamers
that sit
along the rails
To watch the trains
go rolling by
for places
left unveiled

Hallowed
the anointed
unpunched
their tickets clean
To see through eyes
that time can’t buy
true islands
— in the stream

(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)
I’m a foolish, curious & humorous creature
So go on, laugh at the way I lived
and save your tears for the smoke of my funeral pyre.
 Aug 5 Khoisan
Malcolm
I
Spare the tongue,
the poor old creature,
once dressed in cloaks of sonnet and sermon,
now stripped to fragments
wuup2
lol
k?

We could still lift it
not to polish, but to breathe,
to remind vowels they once rang in cathedrals,
not just bounced in group chats
like rubber truths.

We could speak
not just say.
We could mean
not just meme.

But do we dare slow down
when silence might ask something back?

Spare the language.
Or at least,
let it die
with a little dignity.
04 August 2025
Spare the Tongue
Copyright Malcolm Gladwin
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