Great expectations – great?
But what when the obvious happens?
A predictable animal grasps you
And throws you to the ground.
Thoughts of how nice it would be if . . .
Then they vanish like a dream when you wake up.
A floating reality teases your mind,
It is there but it may never reach you.
Note: This is the first poem I published. It was written in 1970 (I was 12) and I switched one word: “animal” was originally “fate.” I switched the word in 1975 at age 17 at the request of Donald Hall, who had been kind enough to tell me my poems were too abstract. His snail mail red lines over the years are what kept me writing. What a Godsend, as writing, regardless of outcomes, is an important contribution to human understanding.
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