every day I walk through images
lines and partial lines
that hang like curtains
think of poetic vocabulary
words like ‘shards’
but there’s all that distraction
of normal life activity
the dream continues with all those
magical processes
chemistry, the wonderment
wander through it
like in a wonderland
where strange plants grow
try to push the images
into text
not always successfully
there’s the spoken voice
that intrudes
my voice
my voice
your voice. that's the key. trying to push images into text - I think of trying to sieve the skins and seeds out of something I hope will be guava jelly. messy
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