Between The Hidden Places Poem by Ian McArthur

Between the hidden places, creeping
by on knowledge of the spaces no
light of day or light of sight will
cut through the thick and cozy grease
of darkness in this lovely waste
Steadfast in a dusty haste
concealed by lacking lankiness
revealed by no muffling must

Revel in these faulty constructs
Ill fitting parts that grind and groan
Ill harmoniously.
A beauty recompense of assumable asymmetry
that of disordered array amongst -
- amdist - atwixt the overtly organizing orderer
Of the spark forever following the vacancy
Still dispute said structure in the patience of sortied stuff.