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Click heregulls swirling in dog fights
over Delfshaven, from Westzeedijk
look like a swarm of squabbling flies
it’s the loss of perspective
no sense of proportion
thought loops looping, looping
as theorized, the brain joins the dots
and out of chaos comes order
but is it me or is it them
or is it the shape of the harbour
the way it corals them
in its cupped hands
I commented earlier on Class and didn't realize until now that you had other poems posted. This one is more like what I expect to read from you. Very good read.
Liked the beginning; the theorizing would have been much easier on the eye in a less didactic form.
Excellent little vignette, Mr. B. I think "corrals" is misspelled.
has been recommended in the New Poems review thread on Literotica's Poetry Feedback and Discussion forum. Thanks for the read!