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Starting Something


by Darryl Price


It's kind of fun being on a 
big blue ball floating in space in 
the sunshine. That's astronomy
for you. But what about inside

the light? I've seen things. Things that were
having their own fun jumping in
a river I couldn't see. If 
the stars are fish, do they know where 

they came from? Where are they going? 
How far is it to get there? What
are they hoping to find inside 
the belly of a yellow tiger? 

Pay attention. I don't know
what to do, but all these celestial
patterns are making me 
so uncomfortably sick. Yes,

they are beautiful, but the men
who cover the land and sea with 
their garbage filled lies are killing
everything that moves. The blue skies 

can't stop them. The ice caps won't stop 
them. Talking trees. Nothing disturbs 
their sleep. They accuse us of trying 
to start something they'll need guns 

to finish. What is the color 
of blood on blue? And still we turn.
I'm not standing in a shadow, 
if that's what you think. I wanted

to whistle so no one will be
left alone. I guess I'm giving 
my positioned self away. Plans 
are made. This was mine all along.
 
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