Poems · poetry

“Boston Brogue”

It looks like a stream of consciousness, but it is more of a happy accident. As I couldn’t write down my thoughts on the way to the train this morning due to rain, I engaged the speech to text function of my phone. Apparently, my phone cannot catch my words wrapped in the Boston accent. I was quite amused by what resulted. Here it is unedited. I find it has a poetry all its own…

“Boston Brogue”

Rain dancer rain dancer prancer caught in the space between the rain the raindrops wrinkles top me how to dance in the rain three missing Sporto squash gravesite what prayer was a minute give me a jacket what without the aid of an umbrella what’s almost camouflage four should be lying about what brothers are curious thanks they open and close and they can umbrella without the clause

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