Pain
is complacent
to things
you blame.

Bliss
is tenacious,
despite things
you change.

I am a poet, blind,
with a vague idea
in my mind.

The fallen flag of inspiration
is stained with passions.

The child points and says,
"Look, mommy, look!"

The poet points and says,
"Look, world, look!"

The collective groans,
then sighs.

Mommy
responds after
a long pause:

What?

Miniature lief.
A pixel. A byte.

a way to purge
on paper,
truths.

i read a catalog
of 1000 sentences.
there were too many.

none gave me a lover.
all just went
forward.

I bought a book
and read
half of it

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