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                      thar she perched on the dry stone-
                      capped stone wall one morning
                      misty swirled the trees on the flat-
                      meadow horizon with right leg folded

                      down slipper-pointing to the earth with
                      sharp-ankle contrast to the stone and
                      left leg folded up anchored over right
                      knee padding-(pushing / rocking a loose

                      stone?) like Tara ready to step from her
                      lotus with pretty waist and pulled-back
                      sleeves – wait wait – she pulls the sheet
                      from the neat-clack type-writer perched-

      nestled against shin-bone in her lap – whawassat? – sheet stays wrapped around
      the platen, shoulders, bandana’d hair, pointy nose, pointy breasts, all, read
      attention to the words – held held – and while a telegraph pole leans slightly
      from the weight of all its messages a light flashes up from the distant trees





hair & mist wormhole: 1959 –– MANHATTAN –– 2012
light wormhole: ‘in the centre of the bare room …’
meaning wormhole: events happen / through all measure of name
morning wormhole: 1977
posture wormhole: gently straighten
stone & trees wormhole: H e a v e
Sylvia Plath wormhole: living mystery / murder theatre
Tara wormhole: the strange mauve relief of / this burgundy-gritty encounter
walls wormhole: what heavy and cantilevered structure
words wormhole: our whore-y little compromises
writing wormhole: un … able