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REPLICA
Dreaded intervals when the tongue
blemishes; begins to fleck & flay
the way a botched paint job does in
the wind & hot noonday sun seem
unremitting moments when the canopy
in your cranium tatters into fragments
as language achieves new levels then
falls from the roof of your mouth.
An unrecognisable likeness imbues
jade irises; a reproduction inserting
assertions like agates in your eye
sockets, and your attention becomes
a revolving door of curiosity.
Who is this bedlamite bearing
a resemblance to you? It cannot be
you however, for that starving
artist forever bays like a lone wolf
at an imaginary moon.
SPECTARE INCOGNITO
I’ve checked and checked
once more, and still no paper
promises of payment, no thank
you notes arrive.
It’s 12:30, out
to the mailbox again,
no correspondence whatsoever.
They’re just not there!
Well, at least there’s no CanLit
standard rejection slips either.
Anonymous, Mr. X,
innominate in book & record stores
everywhere is the way supposedly
it must be. Out & thoroughly
about this neck of the woods,
directly into the Heartlessland,
examining the unexplored,
studying the unregarded.
But yet I yearn, oh yes I
crave and thirst for
a little recognition.
Gregory Gunn was born in Windsor, Ontario in 1960, grew up in four small towns
throughout Ontario before moving to London in 1970. A graduate of Fanshawe College in 1982
as an electronics technician, he has worked steadily in that field of endeavour ever since.
Writing for nearly thirty years, he is most passionate about poetry. Other interests include
music, astronomy, philosophy, photography, ancient civilisations, foreign languages, and gardening.
Email: Gregory Gunn
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