Maybe the unseen things
are
seen somewhere
the roots of thought feeling
processes of mind
curves
corridors
haunted
churning gurgling messages
dark cavernous conniving
skulking around corners thieving
and the formulation of word
strangling
grappling groping meaning
connected to all earth receiving
vibrating hum dreaming
speaking from
the bowels of
being.

A poem by Anthea Garman

Many to Many Issue 3 February 1993

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