A Schizoid Fragrance

I heard a jumbled tango champion
stumble on a feathered turtle,
and judging from my confusion,
I had quite a bit to reflect upon.

It felt like a schizoid fragrance,
but I hadn’t come to my senses
until it was too late to tell–

No matter, we all do what we wanna do
and let it float insane (only for a time).
Then we fold it back and stuff it in our pockets.


Author: Aidan Badinger

Wharved.com I am a poet. I write poems. Titles and subjects and subsequent readership are all part of one fragmented figment of our universe, and it's nice that we take it so seriously. Hopefully the craft remains and grows stronger for our children.

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