Nor is there internet,
I am an eating, sleeping, shitting thing,
Scooping fish with a net,
A person unconnected, but still man,
What will you think of me?
I’ve corrected my posture, not my tongue,
Still the same perspective of sanctity,
My dreams have come clear and seem to advise,
Oh, if I could live there,
Just spectacle, acceptance, you and me,
With ev’ry thought laid bare.
When I return,
P’haps we can make it so,
It exists here midst the eagles and lakes,
We could join them ‘fore they finally go.
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