---
title: Look
subtitle: a found typewriter poem
genre: verse

epigraph:
    content: |
        Is he older?  I asked her.
        And I never got an answer, because at the moment she disappeared in a puff of smoke.
        I like to think nothing ever happened to her save that she went over to the spirit realm.
        I usually know better though.

project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
    css: autocento
...


Look, I say---look here--- \
at this old place \
where nothing changes.  \
Look at the people \
who pass by.  Look at \
the trees.  The flowers \
full of wanting: look \
how full they are with \
color.  Look how they mock \
us, empty people who \
must fill themselves \
with changes---emptiness.

"There is nothing to be \
but happy.  There is no \
sadness to fall down \
like cherry petals."

The trees don't under \
stand: they are too \
tall to see the germ \
of discontent in us.