My
soul, where do you flow?
Down!
Down
to the river and hill,
by
the road of nameless sorrow.
My
soul, where do you flow?
Up!
Through
the bitter throat of a dandellion,
to
blow myself into the wind.
My
soul, where do you flow?
Down!
By
the mirror smooth
pubic
glaciers or London girls.
My
soul, where do you flow?
Up!
In
the thick bush of network cables
looking
for oblivion.
My
soul, where do you flow?
In
narrow old trenches,
down,
through
the bog to Australia!
My
soul, where do you flow?
In
the spring of headless hens
up!
Knocking
on the sky.
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