by fragmentedspeech

Serendipitous tongues spit words for ones hung

and the bright of their teeth falls flat among words sung

Postulating positive keyhole rungs

Connecting them to unknown funds

to places they belong re pronounced fire the guns

by tongues singing the songs of ones once sung

that were sung all along

along the river about and round and rowing

a river of drought rocks roll no going

anywhere at all and the cursed world is growing

in to all we know: nothing-knowing