hescho peech

I took my pen from a pocket and, for no reason that I could comprehend, blacked out several letters in the headings and, with not a notion of Situationist or cut-up theory, but with an urgent and divine energy, The School Speech became he Scho peech, which, in turn, instinctively, could not become anything but hescho peech. And, thus I wrote my own idiot-ode to the muselis, a shit haiku, if you will, for lovers of alphabet soups.

*

hescho peech

becomes you

wear it like a spell

threaded beach-find

binds you

cones of pineal

hescho peech

burns bergamot

walks a country mile

bewilderment of bon mots

in the northern isles

hescho peech

unordinary

seldom is she seen

a shadow rose

on summer lawns

washing over me

hescho peech

a rhythm

an echo in the hall

letters learnt by repetition

written on the wall

hescho peech

reminds me

to ink, to love,

to speak, to listen

between the sheets

and through these journals

hescho peech

pens postcards

treasure found

unexpected

in the in box

tapping at the x

21 thoughts on “hescho peech

    1. I remember being fascinated by the sound of the chalk on the board at primary school as Mrs. Morgan wrote out her sentences, sans crossed t’s and dotted i’s, returning to the beginning and applying them and returning again to render commas and whatnot, ending with a sturdy full-stop!
      🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I remember similar scenarios, Nick, but I think my teachers placed punctuation marks as they went along. I also remember standing in front of the entire class, having to write on that board. Not always a pleasant experience.

        Liked by 1 person

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