The Sky Is Winking At Me Tonight - Poem by Stan Petrovich
It is as if there is something
I must not know:
I quickly dig up my dogeared Kant
And search for an explanation-
It is all thete, if one goes deeply...
Our senses are blundebusses at best.
There are hidden forms, gossamer wings,
Are tangential eaquations,
We stupidly overlook.
I think - no, I say - that they walk among us,
Tripingly in laughter, and point
Out our absurd predelictions.
One cant find much
humor in being laugher AT.
But I do.
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