Ben, No lie b
The act of living is not natural,
it is a craft. Green, green: I’m going
away to where the grass is greener still.
Intertextuality is not a
dirty word. Those faces on the mural
stare into your borrowed light. Hippety
hop, hippety hop! I talk in a daze,
(one hundred and eight) I walk in a maze.
Edwards’ loss is the American Will.
I linger on those pale blue eyes showing
patricide in a youthful piety.
Flip a strife unsweetly. Snuff it with a
tug. Reasoning gives you no time to frown—
a Friendly halo—up for you is down.
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