At Name’s Cusp

Last night I dreamt
I went to Nemonymity again
At the cusp of Unname and Name:
And when I saw ghosts limp through dark halls’ fame,
I shouted – you ghosts, any ghosts, wild or tame,
You can never be lame!
But I wept to watch them come
As they hefted oaken tables,
Dragged and tagged in groups of one
Towards ill-carved labels.

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