Fragment of a poem by Tu Fu (713 - 770) To Pi Ssu Yao..."We have talent. People call us/ the leading poets of our day/Too bad, our homes are humble/ our recognition trivial/ Hungry, ill clothed, our servants treat/ us with contempt."
I was born to two humans in a strange land long ago. I lived in this strange land and did strange things, mated with strange people, absorbed strange cultural influences, consumed strange substances, and became involved with the strange sub-culture of performance poetry. Strangely I'm still alive.
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