LET THE LAMPPOST IN
I never mingle well, clobbering
people in the head with my stammer,
instead of just welcoming them in.
Leading a torch-light parade once,
for the likes of William Blake, we
all stopped at the chimney-sweep's
house. Yes, he enjoyed seeing us,
but would not let us stay.
-
The grass along the sidewalks was
high enough already, but even as I
watched it just kept growing. There
are so many mysteries under the sun.
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