misha feigin | small press

Small Press

You are a sole reader
Of all signs you discover
After opening your eyes.
There are as many worlds
Spinning around as many
Perceivers grow or move
In the sprawling chaos
Infected with the relentless
Geometry of living – and you
Want to speak to them all,
But any words leaving
Your lips are bound
To be self-referential.

“This is my life,”
He chuckles softly
Touching the new book,
“It has room even
For a sparrow killer.”

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