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More Things
 

Horatio, my friend, there are more things.
But what things they be? That is the question.
Breaching the walls of your philosophy,
May they still teach well the perceptive soul,
Or just leech the mind of rational thought?
Shall I fetch the banshee for my doppelgünger
To appease that irrational hunger
And explain away the mystery of the day
With phantom figments
    of our myth-starved clay?

©2002 Carl Pecinovsky


 

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