Though I live in a small town
In the middle of an enormous city
At the bottom of an evaporated ocean
I am always conscious of the desert
Surrounding all of this which starts
To boil and bubble in early April
While we fearless frogs enjoy
These cool spring days before
(The tenderness that came back
After it had been given up on)
But what will we do with all these
Steep hills and deeper valleys
Some days I picture my life
As a mirage in this desert
The mirage of an oasis
I am crawling toward
Some days so vaporous and fine
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