We may all be
fictions, we may
be all fictions,
but we could
try for other than
the truth after
all, we could
try to stop
trying to be
our own stories,
we could lie
around, lying
about telling
tall stories at
all, we could
reinvent new non-
narrative fictions
whose truth is
this fire in
the fake motel
grate, the snow
on these silken
spring flowers
that can't fade.
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