I wrote this when I was reading some experimental poetry and getting angry at it. Perhaps that is what the author wanted. I hope not.
Can a sibilant be lonely
A consonant stranded
This curse we have
Invention inhalation
Imprisoned by oxygen
An arrange marriage
Vowel and groom
You are mistaken
In your discord
In your stray punctuation
As a giant black salt grain
This lateral device
Is not to be sharpened
But turned in a child’s hands
Inanimate as a wooden toy
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