
I see you there
on the other side
of forty-seven,
waiting for me
like a father,
like a child,
looking up,
looking back,
waiting for me
to catch up,
to start making
sense of what I see.
Well, stop.
I won’t do it.
I can’t do it.
This is why I
do what I do
and you know it.
So stop. Stop waiting.
Stop wasting both
of our times.
I’ll get there
when I get there
or maybe I won’t.
You’ll just have to
wait and see or
wait and not see.
It’s all the same to me.
I don’t care anymore.
I will do what I do.
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aha, but who was reciting that poem …? … ah brou-ha-ha-ha!
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pre-
cisely
post!
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