"The Dream Songs"; "Lights I Have Seen Before"; "The Avenue Bearing the Initial of Christ into the New World"; "Though His Name is Infinite, My Father is Asleep"; "The Contrariness of the Mad Farmer"; "Hummingbirds"; "Robinson"; "Olga Poems". & when I arrived I was sure I had already read these words. & thank god(the one the doesn't exist) for making them happen & putting them there. & for all the shit, undoubtedly, gone through, day after blessed day. & yes I was alone & yes we are all of us, every one of us: alone. But we must, if we can, brace ourselves & buck up. & if it doesn't kill us...well, maybe we can write it down? It's none of my business really whether or not anyone is listening. I speak now despite myself. & what is it I am going to say? How much truth can I tell & who can tell if it is the truth? I could always tell, sweating & chewing, the truth, even if I couldn't tell it. & there it was. 

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