I often feel
like there is no way around
feeling uninspired—
like, I could spend forty-eight
years surrounded by
an entire nation,
under destructive construction,
over the consumption
of a madman’s logic.

Words mass in my diaphragm, unable
to surface. a lump of clay of
everything I want to express
but the whole process is stop
and start. stop
and start to reconcile.

I’ve always wanted to catch
a falling leaf,
but they always fall
just outside my reach.

-a.v.c. & l.m.m.

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