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24 August 2006


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i found this
so intriguing...
sharp thin air
blade of sun...

i had to go back
and reread
3 times
for my own enjoyment...

desert rat

Neat, interesting how partway through, the last line of each stanza is really the beginning of the next one. And the odd contradictions: "I never knew my father", and yet "I loved my father, he had perfect, beautiful hands". Which could both be true, I suppose. And the way a few oddly disturbing things are dropped in, like "there are reasons you must not touch me".


This poem kicks so much ass. I love the lyrical, rhythmic flow of the lines, the language so delicately chosen...I was entranced from the first word. Truly beautiful.


Haunting & evocative. With its sequence of isolated, sharply defined sense-recollections, it captures so well the insecurity of memory. Shades of Beckett & Pinter.


Thank you, all. So much.

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