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                      A Crack in the World


On the back porch the geometry of sounds defines my place

I know which real goes which direction

I am old - I’ve paid attention

I should know on the back porch nothing is not the same

Know it is time not place to travel


Input places me - decisions land me in this rocking chair

I ride my dreams down the darkness

Where the immense whispers live

Demanding two dimensional layout on the page

No allusion needed


Looking over the latest fetish

Stretching longer than my reach

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