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In an Age
Calm the rattle in this fool's brain.
Put it down to tax.
Tired barbs that speak in tones
That coo, then bury walls in dust.
It tells me I am not enough,
It laughs at where I scatter wide
My roots into the ground.
Do we not need some nourishment,
When no one is around?

If I could slow the sparks that flow
From eyes,...