To citizens of the Blinking Veldt.
I wave my hand to show I have no weapons.
Lee is right.
I am "such a girl" sometimes.
But aren't we all.
In Poetryville, I mean.
It beats the lunks they have over in Palookaville.
Even the girls there slug you.
And that's just the flirtation.
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INAUGURAL VALENTINE
As every scientist knows
there are only four loves
in the withering
of a leaf
though they seem to come from everywhere
to meet themselves
as strangers airborne
in the ever-widening gorge of the world
the love of falling
the love of someone
the love of a certain pigment
the love of seeds
only what is free itself
can speak for freedom.
Great poem, Peter.
I felt my soul gathered in from the four directions when I read it.
Seriously.
Really beautiful.
merci beaucoup, tu m'inspire...
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