7/22/08
i mourn the fact
that poetry is most apt
to come
when unheeded
unlooked for
unneeded
and
unnecessary
i mourn the fact
that life has no remote
no buttons
like pause
rewind
stop
or
undo
i mourn the fact
that friends can't see
inside me
to my heart
mind
soul
and
motives
i mourn the fact
that time has a habit of
distorting life
into swirls
eddies
pools
and
rapids
i mourn the fact
that life is not like books
with friendly
little clues
distinctions
story lines
and
endings
i mourn the fact...
i mourn the tragic correctness of the content of this über poem.
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