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Post by Ivan Carswell on Mar 6, 2008 18:59:44 GMT -5
I think I was supposed that night to write a plot I didn’t write when opportunity came knocking; drowned in a younger man’s dreams – unaware the celestial vehicle waits no more than a heart- beat between stops, enthused by an assurance it would not leave me despairing after answers sought to existential connivance – where truth matters less than substance or modes of belief.
I did not take my seat, was careless and upbeat about the next conveyance, boasted how easily I’d reach the destination. Thus I stayed asleep, played somnambulant tunes to rhythms of the spheres – believed I was within a modicum of succeeding. Now I’m awake again, and waiting... © 26 November 2007, I. D. Carswell
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