Still--it would be lovely
to wave a cut lilly and panic a notary, or finish a nun with a jab to the ear.
It would be nice just to walk down the street with a green switchblade handy,
whooping it up till i die of the shivers.
I won't live like this--like a root in a shadow,
wide-open and wondering, teeth chattering sleepily,
going down to the dripping entrails of the universe
absorbing things, taking things in, eating three squares a day.
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