RIC S. BASTASA
actually it is the same thing
over and over again
and i keep on watching
and if you only know there is no more
to what i constantly see and love and hate
and cry for (how did i really learn
to cry? did i really cry?
the footage of push and pull
and moans and groans
mechanical figures inside
soon, i be a man transformed
from mere dirt to budding mushroom
tasty, delicious to your palates
on your favorite Hawaiian pizza
even the dirtiest
mind you always transforms itself
into a useful ornament
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Comments about this poem (footages.... by RIC S. BASTASA )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
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