Living without reference,
Why should I now prefer
Being one thing rather than
Something else? I feel no
Preference. My embryo
Was inscribed with long
Life and great strength,
But why should anyone care
Now? I pick up a deck of
Cards and deal one winning
Hand after the other. I draw
My gun and hit the ten ring
Time after time. Why is it
Then that the target I aimed
At with the greatest care
Should now be missed? I
Can’t distinguish it from
Cottonwood trees crows
Fly up from forcing
Me to look and watch
Clouds obscure whatever
Will follow. I look
Down at Ben and
Duffy. They know.
One third of a year.
One half of lifetime
Gone. They stop me
From missing too.
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