A(n updated) Bristol Series

I have, these recent years, fallen, somehow, in to writing about Bristol over and over again.

; ? : . or, A Sedoka On The Explaining Of The Concept & Feeling Of Love To A Young Child

Just what love is; just what it means.

Tanka/Tanka.

Somestuff to present to whomsoever ever reads it.

A gaze a-gaze across the fold.

FOTABTFOTN.

Take syllabic space ‘n empty it of possibility.

Lying, list’ning.

Write it; move on.

Vissuhrah entoombed; brightist star.

Watashidake.

It is a song of poems – different parts in different verse throughout a night exchanging stories.

Let me/it, at last, then, rise, buffeted by sound-waves.

I have/I will have written in the waves of echoed song.

A spring begets a stream becomes a river raising tides.