10.4.2018 around two pm (Cloud Poem II)

The afternoon is still young. I have submitted my work to 20 publications today—very industrious. And I have read much new literature. My peers are virtuosos—they write poetry so good no one can understand it. They write at the roots of language; I write of tired themes like love and my sorrow. I think I’ll gaze into the sky and watch the clouds drift.

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