Gridlock was rattling itself toward freedom! Monsters! Tyranny! Revolt.
I gave up T&P with semiautomatic compassion
for History changing unlike anything before.
She said You are my sky
I want to feel your hot breath on my neck
and put me up there in the Screaming Sixties
where the scalp of Earth
curves into the mint-black sex of space
as I stroll among the mint-white tongues of sea.
If I did, I died.
If I didn’t, I died. I reasoned.
You can cry or you can sing.
So why
not
sing?
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