Reference Section

In this cubbyhole hive, poets
Canute the bore - they don't read, or touch-type.
Squacco quills poise
for fin and flash in the ripple-mirror.

They are silent and still
as grandmasters computing enigma variations
where the black squares are words they score 'tacet'.

No skyscrapers of textbooks threaten to topple.

The angler-bird is stalked by an Argus centipede.
In the lighthouse, a longer lens
swivels. And poets wait.

by Richard George

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