hello, just wanted to add this poem to the previous editorial sent:

awfully real

she realized once something was different 
some called it psychosis 
some called it enlightenment-- 

sometimes she wept 
sometimes she laughed 
sometimes she spoke in many tongues 
sometimes she said nothing at all 

she was on the edge of the volcano 
making her offerings 
because one night she dreamed 
of a lava sky 

flowering, flowing, pouring down 
like hot honey, too hot of course 
and we disappeared in the blink of an eye 

it might have been an asteroid 
the one that had been predicted 
and maybe now we are underground 
somewhere waiting for the new world 

she would talk about these things 
on her own speaker's corner 
over by the 7/11 

if only she had put a hat out 
and did performance art 
instead of being awfully real 
and taken away 
to chemical straightjacketville
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