In the bazaar of my mind

A foreboding dwindles

It makes a strange fistula

Through which I peep inside

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A pile of junk an old man hauls

He cantillates a prayer unknown

Its all been purloined, I realise

Not one original, among it all

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I watch my thoughts incinerate

Slivers of smoke of varying diameter

What a strange rendezvous this has been

Where ideas meet their maker,

But the maker’s a fumbling fake.

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Dear Readers, 

This has been a response to Wordle #67 by Mind Loves Misery’s Mengarie.

The rules were as follows:

1. Cantillate (to chant; intone)

2. Haul

3. Bazaar

4. Purloin (to steal)

5. Foreboding

6. Junk

7. Dwindle

8. Rendezvous

9. Incinerate

10. Fistula (Pathology. a narrow passage or duct formed by disease or injury, as oneleading from an abscess to a free surface, or from one cavity to another. Surgery. anopening made into a hollow organ, as the bladder or eyeball, for drainage.)

11. Gorge

12. Diameter

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem

The words can appear in an alternate form

Use the words in any order that you like.

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In other news, I have been going through a tough time physically with bad health, so please excuse me for delays in between posts. Prayers and good wishes are appreciated. Thank you all!


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