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Zach Willett Nov 2012
like a wild rice
a grain gone mad
he was left when all his brethen were all right

in the mist
a golden beam shone
she was alone in darkness, surrounded

to fall right out of a circle is to fall out of being a square
a word is a heavy blanket and learning to burn that blanket is comfort destruction

while you were out picking tangerines
i was making my burning man suit

— The End —