'You can only disappear once and then they will find you out.
Swift and certain chaos will tell you to try your luck again.'
Swift and certain chaos will tell you to try your luck again.'
from “Three Ghazals for Departure” by Leigh Stein
Ghazals on first impression
Are lofty desert tents, until I
The watered down unpractised poet,
Realises they are a form of something.
A form better than my attempt to braid my hair
As the lockes full loose as my layers of
Petaling hair refuse to be combined into order.
Chaos could be welcome, if it had an agenda. But like
My hair that grows too slowly, I treadle my path
Too slowly, an eastly and easy target for disaster,
Until I shake off the shame and ashes for the next time
I need to be found.
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