(untitled 3)A Poem by Floundering AboutYou can hear the anything in the other voice. Words exit as if from a bus. You know only that they get off at a particular stop. Everything else is speculation. The other voice seems to hear its words exiting, but has not learned to ignore them like a driver would. Maybe this isn’t good for me the other voice concludes, continuing to interrogate the passengers.
© 2010 Floundering About |
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Added on August 24, 2010 Last Updated on August 24, 2010 |

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