THEME Poem by Elke Erb

THEME



potter around: then you become things. Their prey.
Take care or your eye
as you potter will pop.

The light of your eye: a lantern. Outside.
Good for the night. And passenger traffic.

Your duodenum — looping back, looping forth!
Controlled by nerves? The nerve authority?

Nerves, nerves!
Are left to themselves!
In the slight beeze a rustling like leaves.

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