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Impromptu Poem # 29

Abouzar Karimi

A Hand with no Fingers,
Not even Bones,

A Hand incapable except of Forming an Incomprehensible Synchronization

It’s this kind of Hand that decides the fate of the Eyes
And it’s at this Point it’s Fingers begin to Write
Writing a script that never Is
A script that is Not

But They do Write,
Still, no fingers are even at work.
A script doesn’t exist.
And the Hand is not even invovled.

.

August 2010

Translated by Saghi Ghahraman

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