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Mar 2015
from another side of a window,
a shadow permanently cast:
disinterest licks lips. like i ain't
care to know. as if time were
our great merchant, as if wares
bought ashore were something
more than summarisable.

doubt, crushingly, descends.
the shore-lined, i, sent moral
and virtue on pieces of 'hear',
& a little less say. words
falter; left to hang, unimaginatively,
like candles under the thatched
ceilings of humanity. oh,
how we were led to the water.
taught to breathe. how were we
ever pure? some animal below,
some eternity at fingertrim.

can't believe this freedom,
of sailing above standing
waves. set-out regularities.
wrought up a smile with
alligator teeth. dust's song.

yet another 2:01am.
'Reason promises happiness; Feeling protests that it is Happiness; Sense alone gives Happiness. And Happiness itself is like dust in the mouth.'
Tom McCone
Written by
Tom McCone  Wellington
(Wellington)   
497
   Christopher KD, ---, r, --- and Ally
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