trying an imitation

 

“A wave is in the water,
a phenomenon, unlike an armadillo”.
I climb the stairs
and recite the opening lines
of Dante’s Divine Comedy.
I have to descend
to my vicissitudes, the painful
ones, they are real
not imagined, like an armadillo.
I can’t wave them away.

note: I’m reading,wave, at NPR.

 

 

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