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Poetry

Elsewhere

by Tim Chappell

In Elsewhere rolls a river you do not know
down to an ocean you will never see.

Elsewhere’s huge cities (nameless in your mind)
ring with a million arguments you’re not in.

In Elsewhere a stray dog barks, but you don’t hear it.
Its tautened nights, lit with ambiguous light
from the other side of your moon, are nothing to you.

But unconceive yourself,
and Elsewhere’s here.