Cutup Bartleby

A cut-up poem assembled from the scraps of Bartleby, the Scrivener

“Are you looking for the silent man?”

I am one of those touched.
I said something,
something in question.

“What do you think of              
uneasiness?”

But he answered not.
He remained as ever,
a fixture in my chamber.

It might be,
I perceive,        
his faults in myself;
the poor, pale, passive mortal.

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