Tabula Mundus »
by ~magbhitu
Words pour down on the plain.
A scree of sonnet boulders
racked with pentameter
and fluid dynamics.
Bricks for Babylon these words.
Each an iridescent scripture jewel
tended (perhaps)
by an austere abbot of necessity.
Shaped hadrons or centerless aggregates?
It is for you to decide -
whether the world has a voice,
or is just some hen with pebbles in her gizzard.
Whatever you think,
the words will still rain down.
Guttering endlessly
like hail in a creek ditch
forming sentences by accident
chanting reluctant sentience
from thickets of memory.
They will keep coming
these words
inexorable as lichen
spreading it’s marria
the Madman by ~magbhitu
Suppositor by ~magbhitu
