What I does we refute by being
We and sometimes a dialogue
Or the beginning of an action in
Space names become consequent
To this that they were not each
Other’s mine and I can only express
What it knows through this event
There is the truth that with only
Knows—everything else just a
Sympathetic hole outsourcing us.
What sings us the beaks too big
Wing span too large for this cage
I am made of make and I am made
Of these things not me and to let
Them cry no singular thing are we
This shop-floor not exploitable that
Would kiss these lips instead these
Glass houses in which we won’t
See me and no one will accurately
Describe a feeling for what is right.
(June-August 2009)
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