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PJ Poesy Nov 2018
Umpteen Gods control me
and Zillion brethren alike
born of scads of clans we are mutts
Howling at a moon yowling back
guttural vibration echoing, veering a tempo
towards a tempest tempting temptation itself

These windstorms hailing on a juncture
that infinity will not allow to stop
boggle me into complete
Unrestingly humble obedience
Until I’m not
and a Zillion others follow in suit
What triggers one may very well trigger another.

— The End —