I can see what you're saying.
For me it's a battle with reality and fantasy!
Thanks.
Lynn
----- Original Message -----
Sent: Thursday, October 03, 2002 12:39 AM
Subject: Outer Poetry
> When it happens for me
> there is a blend of airs
> like from Russia and Spain
> or anywhere
> It comes from a space in my mind
> where the dogs fight until death
> and pigeon droppings turn everything white
> There is no right or wrong as written in books
> There is no truth and no body has an answer
> It is something I can't touch
> It mounts a heavy horse, well fed on grain
> and slowly walks to the end of the world
> It bounces more than I wish it to
> It pukes words and holds them in balance
> a delicate balance where one word can throw
> the whole thing off
> into outer poetry
>
> noun
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