Loose Magic


arriving in the middle where all plots suspend the caravan of loose magic rolls into town

bumping along an almost familiar road scenarios swerve and sway history no longer consigned to make sense jars and slips from under the skin

strange landscapes offered by the brain mine the subconscious speak images in many registers give wonder and irony the heave

because it is a dream the dead live again linger in the permeable reveal the shape of wind

navigated by the dreamer the curve of time does not exist nor the buzz of endeavor with its industry and sweep

somewhere a clock alarms a surfeit of life will stir and forget while the caravan of loose magic heads off to its next destination

- Les Bernstein

Related Content