It was a family meeting under the singing pines in 1972. /
The look-alike humans were breathing hard and moving /
up the hill to their meeting spot. What would soon be said /
would soon be lost to my ears for twenty years but never /
leave the hippocampus of my eyes.
In your country, where you are from, I don’t know what / your people say to you, when they recognize you for the // first time, looking like all the rest, with your dirty sack of / laundry and your pencil dangling like a spider on your ear.
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