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Poem
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by Michael McClure |
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I wanted to turn to electricity—I
needed
a catalyst to turn to pure fire.
We lied
to each other. Promises
are lies. Work is death. Contracts are
filth—the act of keeping them
destroys the desire to hold them.
I forgive you. Free me!
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From Of Indigo and Saffron: New and Selected Poems (University of California Press, 2011). Copyright © 2011 by Michael McClure. Reprinted by permission of the publisher. |
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