Art, music or dance

which shall hold truth?

Where do you stand

when the river flows

about you and you

shuffle from foot

to foot

in agony looking for relief?

Water water everywhere

and not a place to piss.

Bladder wanting to evacuate

mind whistling

at boiling point

seeking the limit

of all things

where you don’t

need to sing like evil

to be able to make

it to the ends of poetry.



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