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by Charles Carreon
Standing straight up here
and now
The world is on fire
consumed by flames
One thing only remains,
Desire,
and that by a million names.
Who shall
measure the metes of the expanding universe
between the span of his hands?
Who shall
hold all life in the hollow of her palm
In the heart of a fertile valley,
Where a thousand rivers bloom?
No one
conquers all questions.
All die
to some extent unfulfilled.
The trick to appreciating that
is not so difficult.
Just laugh ...
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