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Notes for further research:


         A) My belly of a soul can dance sideways to the separation

between meats, but it’ll lie. My body

and my soul are subject

to the same trauma but their proximity belies

their separation.


          B) Someone once misplaced their meat

and I fell off my meat

into the world where meat

and I lie

on sidewalks in heaps.

We begin at a reasonable distance,

reasonable meeting places. I am reasonably

unaware. You advance.


I see you.

I turn. A dashed line. Retreat.

A double pointed, doubled effort

of pursuit to counter my meat’s



Stand off. Our reverse follows.

Reversal is common. Eventually

you simply stop. Change direction,

now you retreat. Altogether. Your meat mirrors

my meat. Startle


my meat. Inspire curiosity with

abrupt counter efforts.

No reaction: respond, reciprocate.


We end both further. Loose

in connection from a history

of interaction – a new

dashed line.



Circle Poetry Journal///Ministry of Obscure Knowledge  ©  2015