Tuesday, August 11, 2020

Strange

The best texts are not the ones
Done well but the ones no one

Can make heads or tails out of
Since they were left as they were,

Not quite done, or they were mauled
By the one who wrote them out,

Who did not know what should go
With what and so made the best

Of it—its good bits, left well
Wrecked, made strange the mute, changed wreck.