thank you for letting me back in this place
been sneezing and wrenching and losing my face
the birds are still flying
the Han waters trying
to tumble o'er every disgrace
i'm riding here at my own pace
the juxtaposition of death and fruition
folded while i held the ace
thank you, dear lord, for saving my place
on a dyke between Buddha and Han
12-13-12
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