Most venerable language, mongrel, bastard thingpatched together from everything else. An Anglo Saxon foundation.A solid Teutonic core.Then Latin & French, overlaid and infused with some Greek. Hindu and Muslimare welcome — Christian and Buddhist,atheist, Jew.You’re sort of a Potlatch.Sort of a sponge — soaking up, mopping up dreams, tears, and bones.And you get the job done: the love told the vow made the grief consoled.You might trace out a slow, jazzy rhythm — a lusty, bluesy, Delta pleading tone.
Stream satoris of feeling and thoughtinto new hyper-haiku.Or just bump down the roadlike some old cucaracha, over washouts and potholes, through gardens with toads.You run deep and true. You stand up to abuse. You still look good. And sound good.You’re plenty of fun. You’re fascinating. Useful. And you get the job done.
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