for Bill
Two bitches diverge
on the narrow bridge
that leads to self-regarding
there’s a yellow sign there
but all you come to
is a sea a sea you must
cross but cannot cross
gold waves of waste
go either way
how could this
possibly be researched
how could dreaming
about it alter the process
when so much reality
keeps trying to recapture
its first self as if
there was another.
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