we make our own lives,
we live our own lies, misconceptions breeding
truths at kitchen tables every morning.
(the tone shifts
and we feel the personal shift to political,
third person to the
first, feeling overwhelmed,
an under-enlightened sage,
she rose, another
Mary, staring at her watch,
standing at a street corner,
observing time)


why translate energy,
when one can just transmit?


but then again, when sitting on a front porch drinking
beer and feeling a bit too cold in the approaching
season shift, how do you talk about it?


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words