a history a family a consequence
most of it secret exciting implausible
and yet it happens to all of us
when people die we can speak
as if they weren’t listening
or could still learn to feel
no one honest expects a rose
to issue from this thorny mess
a bush is a mess is a rose
I think not therefore I am not
but this is what happens every day
in my changing mind of stuff
the poem is never enough
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