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FROM A POET
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1992-08-18
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776b
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32 lines
FROM A POET A THOUSAND YEARS HENCE.
(Old kind of poem in English).
You, dead a thousandyear,
made patternwords in one mind each.
We say: listen each.
In fluid and exciting lives
we love eachotherourself.
Make universeseach, grasses, trees:
bring stars; paint flesh; conjure leopards and roses
into each other. We all grow,
Minds make skies horses,
music the strodeover sea,
our clarity, freedom.
We manufacture love: organs have organisms,
unicorns spring from forests,
More power to act wanted.
But you our acideaten power collapse,
your pains make our love muddy,
Your peevish minds destroy
little by little. Freedom rusts,
we do not forget.
Please never were. Go from time.
Let us not know
your minimuddles, lifelets, onpinswriggling,
They make freedom diminish.