Fear Grips My Hand And Makes It
E
Emmanuel George Cefai
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Race on the computer
Letter after letter, word on word,
Then the line forms, the verse,
And then another verse,
And all these verses yet more verse beget:
And the whole at one time
Stop like the caesura: the poem’s ended.
Whether a fragment or with satisfaction
The lyric poet-seer his lips will lick
The poem’s ended; the curtains fall.
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