The Time Is Eight Minutes to Eleven, and

splendid_obedience

The Time Is Eight Minutes to Eleven, and …

We were all a splendid obedience,
an affection,
philosophy
by consent

with our uncertain ideas
up stoneware pipes
and vitrified
in sewers, and

that year remained in tomorrow
with those splendid
white ruff cats – a
mistaken wish.

 

 

 

Poem form: The Minute (60 syllables)
Text Found and remixed from the Text Clock at 22:52pm, 9 Feb/15
http://rossgoodwin.com/clock/

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