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---
title: Look
subtitle: a found typewriter poem
genre: verse
epigraph:
content: |
[Is he older](http://books.google.com/books?id=ALdlAAAAMAAJ&focus=searchwithinvolume&q=older+than)? 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][old-place]. \
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:][trees] they are too \
tall to see the germ \
of discontent in us.
[old-place]: planks.html
[how full they are]: squirrel.html
[There is nothing]: elegeyforanalternateself.html
[There is no]: no-nothing.html
[trees]: plant.html
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