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her poetry's a song it has no reason it doesn't know where to go regular poet routes never did interest her but what other paths are there she can't imagine so this is the question that needs an answer otherwise she will remain silent for another decade or two and, as she figures it, she has about that much time left before the grand exit she feels a need to step on it get a move on figure this out what is it this thing poem is for where is one to go with it little seeds with clinging appendages to hook onto overalls and fur and to float on little wing things like maple spins jet head down into earth are supposed to grow something, carry on you see but this stuff what does it do, what can it do it's too nebulous don't you see pretty is boring, clever is boring impressing people is boring changing the world holds some appeal, maybe that's the key: change the world. People used to make fun saying, so you want to change the world, do you?? No, she'd think, I'd rather work my whole life away you stupid prick to have a bloody yard and a cock sucking boat. |