Spacing the Twain
 
Spacing the twain to still the
echoing baffle    personly person
recruits his mind    noting
some listen others speak
 
Saintlike he emits parables
eyes venting astral light    Only
some slip of the tongue makes it
hideous    Some old screed
 
set to a pop tune
Spectrene myth of the oath-takers
miming us    splintering
Ever chanting the heady babble
 
Cant    in the old language
atrading on the primal song
Adumbrated egos aye    sweet
mutabilitie whispers
 
Catalogueing cliffhanger assumptions
petty mental junkmail no jiggle
pantyhose    jello wrestling
radio waves on the brain
 
thought seeming metaphor
echoing the twain
Song and singer
impaled on the crux