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you know what it’s like
imagine
we are like TV sets:
the poet is just one channel,
but he’s the one channel that talks back to you;
and you have so many channels;
you have all the channels, pretty much,
so you can watch and learn whatever you want,
you could be anything and go anywhere,
and you’ll never know where he might be hiding,
through all this poetry of life, this poet of yours
with you his canvas coloring you alive, beholden—
and you can surf and and you can have favorites,
but there’s always another to make ripples,
to make their way known and cause a stir
like in the middle of the night
when it’s so
quiet
you can hear everything 

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