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Perig3e Jan 2012
The improbability of you,
Shooting star,
Birthed in the caldera
Of a winged widget
Ejecting celestial dust,
Now your dance floor
Is the Universe.
And you dance and dance
to the delight of your seasons,
Inspiring your myriad friends.
Perig3e Jan 2012
"The wind has stopped"
Has there ever been a sillier phrase?
What gust has ever been
                            un-been?
Perig3e Jan 2012
Litter
scratch,
  rustle-lated
Un-natural boxed
  cat ****
Cheshired
   grinned
With natural pride
  of being.
Perig3e Jan 2012
The hidden is more than the seen
The seen is more than the observed
The observed is more than the understood
Is it not for poetry to truss 'n bridge
The wattle until better beavers
Make a channeled floody duddy of it?
Perig3e Jan 2012
In this season
I'm walking the rim,
There is always a rim,
An event horizon,
Demarcating
The past and it's lascivious desire to lunch on the present.
Perig3e Dec 2011
December,
   the whole year,
                     actually,
has whittled my world

d
o
w
n

to a lap
cat
older than me
in fur years,
and this misnomered,
smartphone,
from which
I strain to shave marrow
from stolen bones
in the manner
of a single tooth
                            wolf.
Perig3e Mar 2011
the steel on steel clank
of a canal lock gating
is a lonely sound to hear,
and so too your parting words,
though wise, gentle and reassuring,
it is our channel that's closing
and I do whelm - what feels like tears.
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