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Distraction (Free verse) by zodiac

There. No - wait, it'll come: an image shooting out feelers, a glass blown off a table, a tablecloth snapping up wind. No flower-unfolding, this - a bomb. Then I make an action happen. Then make an action happen. Then make some action happen. It's a story, see. But I tend to take things all at once lately, and I'm already at the end of this poem when you're still – and always – a world of your own.

Dovina 30-May-05/6:00 PM
That's the problem. I'm still in a world of my own. Even with this sharing of a jumble of thoughts and the difficulties of sorting it out for writing, no gap is bridged, and it's still a jumble.




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