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The Weirdness Magnet
Erin Abernethy You have a weirdness magnet It sits inside your head It sucks in strange phenomena It pulls me to your bed spider-strings & angel-wings the stories of public strangers whispered like confessions to a faceless priest dying clocks and sentient rocks and circles in the greening fields conjunction upon convergence upon coincidence and all the streams run full and flood when breath and blood break dry and brittle but you… You have that weirdness magnet that sits inside your head It sucks in strange phenomena and pulls me to your bed like a 3 a.m. porch full of pigeons the halfheard voices in some back corridor of the universe Aztec dreams with books in streams of consciousness (And you never scream. How can you never scream?) when the mathematics of order become the numbers of chaos and the agents of fortune paint signs of synchronicity I know you know… You have a weirdness magnet It sits inside your head It sucks in strange phenomena It pulls me to your bed. © Copyright 2002, 2003, 2004 by Erin Abernethy |