To Be Gone A Spell Poem by Stan Petrovich

Not admitting defeat
I embark after the
Thorny jungle of prose-
There anything goes
From airy speculation
To frothy exacerbation

A multiverse trying to convey
May make me mad
By the very first day
The nameless character who shall
Do as I say
Think in words terse and mirrored
infinitely

Everyone has 'doppelgangers'
Doing the exact same and then
Very differing things
Your 'soul's' dead ringer
If you are say
Ten places at once
Like a honey bee
You may not be here
They are over there
Just look in order to see-