Poem Tweleve

[mcwm]

Whilst paying attention to T.S. Eliot

I should not be here
Rather, amongst the Tubes
And churches of the
Beleaguered ancient city

Let us go then, you and I…

I cannot think in paragraphs
Only in phrases, complete enough
My grammar is that of no man’s -
Adjusted as the sentence sees fit,
To keep you aroused at least til
Its cadence.

We are no prophets, but flapping
Gull wings - my sentences show this -
Without fear, or direction.

- Mychal.