News from Spain: A poem by Laurie Price
the master recycler puts her shoulder to the wheel
There is no time. It is stooped and frail.
However, am glad to be alive. The apparitional
single phrase: echo she is the knowledge he was
after, wasted, not what he was expecting, it could be
to torment your graces, expressed, is
to value them; do them no harm no harm
to anything, constantly, dispassionately, inevitably
free to be nothing or nothing in particular,
consider the griefs in trying to be special.
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