Today we present a poem by Herr Wozzeck, who is a composer, violist, Thereminist, and writer based in Boston. This poem is from their recently-released poetry collection The Enigma Letters, currently out in paperback and ebook formats on Amazon. They are also the author of the novels Whip and Boot and Lost Inside the Blue Line. You can also see them perform with Trio Menagerie, and you can find more of their stories on their FurAffinity account.

Read by Ta’kom Ironhoof, the Equine Charmer

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https://thevoice.dog/episode/murky-waters-by-herr-wozzeck

You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.

This is Rob MacWolf your fellow traveler,

and Today we present a poem by Herr Wozzeck,

who is a composer, violist, Thereminist, and writer

based in Boston. This poem is from their recently-released poetry collection

The Enigma Letters,

currently out in paperback and ebook formats on Amazon.

They are also the author of the novels Whip and Boot

and Lost Inside the Blue Line.

You can also see them perform with Trio Menagerie,

and you can find more of their stories on their FurAffinity account.

Read by Ta’kom Ironhoof, the Equine Charmer Please enjoy “Murky Waters”, a poem by Herr Wozzeck Sitting at the ruins of

the fountain of creativity,

one has to Pause

and gather their bricks,

sifting through the

Endless pile of whos and whys and whats,

Losing sight of how the bricks kept

Us in the hole from which we,

drenched in the weight of competition,

Never could have hoped to escape

without first Killing ourselves in the avalanche of backroom politics in

Every aspect of how we thought of stories and characters and

Rolls that created our competitive life-water.

Sometimes, it is only through extreme prejudice

that the waters of this

Afterlife finally flood in,

and as they push you towards the surface,

the Light unveils that your waters left from the fountain have run Muddy.

But then, there comes

One who comes with New bricks,

to build a new well,

one Daring us with possibilities:

thus does the fountain Overflow

with the promise of tales,

with the promise of

Creation, that promise

which will forever Remain fruitful

and plentiful and fresh:

Undulating waves rush from this new fountain,

a Zenith of dreams once scattered

from anguish. The outstretched hand

That pulls one out of

Murky waters This was “Murky Waters” by Herr Wozzeck,

read for you by READER, with CALLSIGN.

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