I SNAPPED THE
NECK OF MISERY
Charmed as I am by all those brute things, I love
just as much to watch the rain come down in buckets.
A few birds linger, wondering enough to look back.
In a few hours time, the rolling clouds, fraught and
heavy with opinion, will break apart and dissipate,
with little left but nothing. That's what happens when
you are but cloud and vapor. Find solid mass instead.
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