Tough Luck

August 10, 2011
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You see a man
running for his life.

You want to shout
to his hollow heart:
Behind you! It’s the waves!
But you only choke,
Of magic of freezing
His predictable fate
like an ant
scorched from frying,
and almost dancing
across the hot wok,
almost suffocating
in thick, greasy
till the wok
tosses it straight into the quiet

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