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I've always had it wrong;
it's not to bring about
a stillness, but rather
to bring forth
the brightest
of all possible
actions.
This is my God,
my country, my form
of hysteria: scattering
leaves and the clutter
of ten cent cans
on side streets
Let them be,
but in my movements
shake them all
into the right kind
of righteousness,
be the stone
that sends the water
rippling with
a vibrating sun;
this light, my god,
my country, my
hysteria.
-e.
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