Poem 1981 (2)

Word machine

 

The horizontal voice drives
through tunnels
of printed lines
down cramped margins that score
a mute white glow
unbound
loose from meaning now
as insect rush
they stipple and strut
on exhibition
babbling word machines
do manic dance
while eyes skid across
their jostling forms
which thrash beneath
perception
in a pattern
of assault.

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