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A
stirring
rendition
by orchestral
digestive specters,
little poltergeists wielding bows against heartstrings;
play on, little daemons! Make music that grinds
the brain to a halt, resolute and unyielding.
Sphere of Severity, for which one pillar
of the Tree of Life is named, burn!
Be the coal in my gut; I'll fan thy flame
to ashes - firm in my lust to speak against.
For in my years I have learned that it is suicide
to do aught but listen to my belly - who knoweth better
than I ever will - exactly
when it is the right
time for me
to say
no.
Thanks to Brandon Barnes, the formatting of whose excellent poem "Ode To Tom Waits" (http://hellopoetry.com/poem/ode-to-tom-waits/)  so reminded me of a hexagram and inspired this shapely piece.

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