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Chris Andrews




People get us mixed up all the time

but if what nature really abhors

is uniformity, we’re OK.

We look at a painting. Your gaze flies

to the vanishing point in the sun.

Mine sinks to the squishy fallen pear.

You wish people would open up more.

I think wait you can’t unsee that stuff.

Where I spy a fathomless chasm


you find a slide on a gentle cline.

All around me, standards are falling.

You tell me the Singularity

is upon us, but that's what I mean.

You say outrage is so rewarding.

I say you’re not paying attention.

Don’t you ever get cold adopting

the point of view of the universe?

Your delicacy makes me vomit.


It’s so mutual. We can only 

pretend to agree to disagree.

You call it turquoise. I know it’s blue.

Trace that rugged story arc, brother.

What the stone torso hauled from the sea

dumbly sings is: Life must change your you.

Our differences are articulate

but the thing I still don’t understand

is why you don’t want to be like me.

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