The Nacreous Oughts

26 September 2004

"I Invented Graywyvern As a Futile Attempt to Introduce Heteronymy Into Kiwi Language Poetry"

Shake it like an alien autopsy Polaroid.
Amid the glare and talking to the sea
I dreamed I had invented you, and when I awoke
The porter pointed up beyond the door.
I am of very fond bananas.
They from the dim inane and vague opaque
Sell droshky lite and droshky fake
Or some aught-else whose being-unknown doth rot
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
And Minutemen, they say, is what we are.
That may sound entirely cryptic; in which case,
I refer the reader to the text.
And, when a thought would unmask our soul's masking,
Itself goes not unmasked to the unmasking

Ken Springtail the real one

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