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Untitled MAG
The last part is the Best.
Running through grass
hopping through sprinklers naked.
sledding and running into trees and getting bruises
they are gone.
Activism
drudgery
conforming
norms, trends and boy and girlfriends.
Why?
I am not inspired to write anything
profound.
Why should I?
You look funny at the poem and say
"He isn't being profound I will not give him the courtesy of
finishing reading the poem."
Why?
Letters and images all mean too much
I am judged by the poetry I write.
But perhaps I should be judged for what I get published.
Why?
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