you’ve had it all along
no less, no more
special than
you are now
another deal
another sound
re-entry bound
in truth already come
those thoughts they do run
in circles
meeting prose
retreating heads and masters
make robust matter
of brass and bronze and dust
making out
it seems
make fist, imagine, or fuck
I don’t even have to care
looking up
kneeling before, take chance
records or voice
reality appeals
scared only of choice


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