This poem is taken from Stand 241, 22(1) March - May 2024.
Two Poems
A Working Knowledge
‘Imagine the sun’s rays as matchsticks
whittled from the Tree of Knowledge, lit
for epochs and singeing us in the dark.’
I listened as the sorceror rambled on, but
...
‘Imagine the sun’s rays as matchsticks
whittled from the Tree of Knowledge, lit
for epochs and singeing us in the dark.’
I listened as the sorceror rambled on, but
...
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