do I really need the tundra or does it just not give a damn how them is it possible to think twice
I awake each morning a new version of an old language growing verbs in a seedbed of nouns only peat moss knows which rivers make the language in which I live
or is it my native tongue which makes river beds fork into definition this preCambrian particularity
I cannot affirm this otherness even the great divide is arbitrary when my isolation knows no bounds
© Diane Stevenson Schmolka .
Page last modified on January 16, 2015, at 06:58 AM