on this computer in the last minute or so.
However, I'm rewriting 'Ovine' as less obviously made up on the spur of the moment, and I'll send it off to some lumpen Poetry mag or comp.
Ovine
We saw a sheep, it's proselytizing
eyes like jeweled fibres
fingering our gaze.
Until.
Now we recall and forget,
a simulcast of memory.
Your soulless weaseling
has alerted the unsteady
tummocking, of the merely
ovine.
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