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On The Other Side Of This Equation
beyond poetry
do not think of something
deep and mysterious
it is this ordinariness of our
everyday life
that comes after
i am finished with the last
poem for tonight
i will be watching the evening news
as i sit on an old hard wood
chair reserved just for me
as i start opening my plate
and wipe my spoon and fork
with this soft white cloth
on a menu of soft rice and
unsalted fish and green
leafy ferns heavily spiced
with onion and red ripe tomatoes
beyond poetry is this eating
this dinner and this listening
to the happenings of events
around us, this comments of
tsk tsk tsk
and u huh. and what the hell
is happening to this country?
this waste of lives and waste
of so much time on matters
of injustice and defrauding
and blinding and shutting
and shouting and shooting
after this dinner i may read
some poems again and even
write some more, but it is
getting late, and the door
is locked and the windows
are all closed and the wind
has come with a stronger rain
earlier this time, i have decided
to sleep and stop minding what
is happening to my surrounding.
beyond poetry, too, is rest.
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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