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Jul 2014
The nurses run a palindrome,
Encased in my own phrase unknown,
Prefixed albeit in the womb,
Transfixed from crucifix to tomb,
Bruising ears with wounding tongue,
Rousing tears with printed plunge,
Into maddening discourse of course,
Twisting turns to twisted source,
Watery words erode the mind,
Spilling from recesses long mine,
Explosions of thoughts buried in bone,
Devotion to that and to that alone,
Things thought so simple and done so nearly,
What seems so clear is not so, clearly,
Here and yet not here at all,
Miracle of the medicinal lyrical,
Vestige a silhouette of sense,
Simplicity complicated dense,
Lost in a forgotten forest of complicates,
****** in delusional dictation so delicate,
Created a copy Cheshire Cat all the while,
Led into Wonderland mile by smile,
Confuse and felicitate all my many meanings,
Intrude and confiscate that being,
Into cognitive conjunction uncoordinated sink,
For you to finally think to think
Bryn Dawes
Written by
Bryn Dawes  Essex
(Essex)   
554
   Ariel Baptista
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