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Out of the misdaylight



Panting stop to the mislife of misbite
Misbalance catches up the lock
The entry and the exit are going to craze my hinges
Of course not
The rope is delivered with miskeys
As the misniggard buys his cutting jaw
And crossbreeds with arms and flesh the mishousehold
The misheart jumps to the misform to the strapping one
The misnail loses the mishairy tip forever
And misideas don’t pin me any more
The daily paper mistells very well the misdaily life
It is a misart for a harpsichord
Shrew breathes miswar
My spade and pickaxe dig in kindly ink
My good air
My treasair

Denis
(01-30-2005)
© IDDN 2005

My original poem