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Let me dig let me dig, do I like him? Am i intrigued? A giraffe walks by... i seek the answer in an african safari with visions of basilicas in fallen nations, coasts of ivory that reject that name. I found the same feeling. Didn't I, Africa? Yeah. I'm in the midst of an identity crisis, and Im not the north, Im not the south, im not a Burkino Fasan or a Ghanaian or an Ivoirian. I'm so nationless i have no nation to be denied from. My feeling is truly directionless, without an identity... But the Decemberists sing in my ears and he pops into head. curiously, he doesn't make my heart flutter or my pulse rise. He makes my lips turn up and my mind explore the things I didn't think i cared about, the things i thought i already knew. He sits in my mind looking at me, I know what he's thinking, i think. He tells me he's thinking about how I look in these jeans, but behind his always satisfied smile I see he's calculating how to next respond, how to cleverly tease me. But it's not the way I want it to be. He knows. He knows I'm the prize fish that spits out the hook. Besides, he already caught a perfectly nice salmon. but enough with fish allusions. I don't even know.
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Donyon: Very cool, different poem; intriguing. Reminds me of William Carlos Williams for some reason. on September 28, 2009 1:34 AM