Let me look on nothing like myself --
let me look on wild orders.
There are always wars at the borders,
there are always borders.
What keeps plant from animal but a name
hidden somewhere inside?
What keeps saint from murderer but a refusal
to accept the blame?
-- I came as close as any came.
O tongue of seeded flame,
O visitant of the rank and tattered petals,
let me be butterfly, or blank
as the heart of a star, heart of water:
come battering
the gates apart, lord hawk, lord frog, lord thing,
but teach me how to sing.
--Jack Butler
A great poem by one of my all-time favorite poets. Read more of Jack's work at The Hypertexts.
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