The senses sell eureka

Or: A verse in sack-cloth

Better poets than I
implant in you a scent
(each day I smoke a pack),
implant in you a sight
(my eyes are green enough),
implant in you a tact
(my nerves are too nervous),
implant in you a sound
(my city is a silent city),
implant in you a flavor
(we shall all taste alike),
but what other poet
performs for you an insight?

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~ by Jeremy on June 6, 2013.

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