If I organize my thoughts
And throw them down like clay
On a wheel or knit them
Together into a garment
Or shape them into a vessel
If I turn them on a lathe
And sand them down to gleaming
Forming them into a figure
Stain and polish it
And then wrap it as a gift
To whom can I send it
Who will drink from my crooked cup
Who will wear my ragged shawl
Who will ride my prancing horse
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