Ceremony

Voices fill the head,/how blurred words peek through spaces,/gaps in stands of razor grass/to give a well managed contentment,/not yet able to teach/a method for cheating meanings./Late that night, /I remember, I set fire/to a heap of bruised stakes./Wrapped in dark blankets/by the river, Old Muddy/I see you wave your wand, smiling,/like a pointer in the air.

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