if i were alive today
i would be 62
and would be teaching my poetry
to speak english
my poems would be
mostly finished (not finnish)
not greek
nor jibberish
they would be round
like women are round
and tall
like men are tall
they would blossom
the way under-sea jungles blossom
and they would be short enough
to fit into a chinese fortune cookie
you could read them
until you were stuffed full
and be hungry again
an hour later
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