I always figure
the uncanny and the canny,
the supernatural or the paranormal
...it’s all fucking normal
at the bottom of it all.
It’s only a nature
we’re piecing together
as we go, and the knowable
is inevitable, slow
steady, in leaping
surge, wise steps
or otherwise.
There can be
no case of urgency
nor rush. It doesn’t
matter what stories
they’ve been telling us.
They themselves don’t know: or
they’d have sold it
and made a mint.
The only secrets
that can stand the draw
of the marketplace
are those that can’t
stand the light of day.
hint hint
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