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Crazy Person

 

 

I felt good. I walked tall. I went to the library.

The orchids blossomed in my path. I was nobody.

 

Houses squatted under Mexican influence behind the bushes

And trees, dumb vacant eyes. There were weird stillnesses

buried in the soft iridescent irises that rose throbbing

To climb the houses seeking to escape into the light. I was nobody,

Well, maybe looking for someone,

Tired of buildings, needing a softness I couldn’t formulate,

Ridiculously myself, chuckling.