driving, i was at seventy miles an hour--
(think of it, seventy!) but with only five
minutes to my name, i thought, Perfection!
how for centuries we have chased you,
up these mechanistic alleyways and
back down these tree-lined boulevards; but
having won the chase we dismayed find
you were, pursued, much more.
10/10/08
Why is it that the penny we long for holds more value than the thousands we already have?
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