he's a philosophy
unintentional after all

i'll be a journalist

as we await a miracle that will then allow the process to proceed

that on some day the right mirror will carry the right face forward

that we’ll find the right bird—even the crow—on the next open branch

that understated hyperstated polystated microstated exostated endo-

what you’ve thrown away became the planet you knew you’d need again

or what took so long to verify became the edge from which you began

or how much we forgot to cry the lost life we would have become then

that boy will refuse with regularity to fix the star round the state

this is the perishable perhaps there was no patience for narration

that we’re against it as we’re against death that licks our fingers

this is our struggle we’re holding out we’re on our own we’re happy


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