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Another iron-cored pirouette,
Just one, and another new person
In text, nothing but words, anecdotes,

And lyric poems, but wouldn’t you know,
You feel like you’ve met someone again,
Someone you didn’t know, another

Ghost of the anglophone universe.
Please, do come in. So happy to be
Haunted by your semi-existence.

Oh, so you’re one of the living ghosts,
So far, although you have dementia
And are quite elderly, so living

You is almost certainly not much
Like all your eloquent ghostly words
Anymore, but it’s nice to meet them.