By | 1 August 2012

If you want a “u,” you strike
the “u” key, not the “i,” the “b,”
or the “c.” None of us doubts

the design. It’s obvious to all
who lack the genius to create

an algorithm of such majesty
and simplicity. If you want
sherbet, fruit is the only flavor

whether it’s a scoop of sunset,
cloud, winter surf, or sunrise.

Everybody knows the rules,
and nobody needs to tell you
there are six and a half billion

of us, and each has only one
single soulmate. We all know

the truth. Conspicuous misery
born even in our naked numbers
moves none of us to question

the fact. It’s a rule like a ruler,
narrow, straight, stiff, wooden,

useful to measure our decline
in inches, the shuffle of our feet,
and the trim hedges of our yards.

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