Monday, May 11, 2020

Flat Earth

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On Jack (my planet) everyone is a believer. In a flat earth.

Not the geography. But history.

Time is a cliff we fall over. God is waiting to catch us. But he has no arms.

I got to thinking that I have no right to tell my children what I've found. Empty cupboards. A sadness so heavy and without reason.

But in all of this they send the poets to teach classes in literature in eastern universities.

Where the end of every poem has a smile.



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