Now here is nowhere,
Where the road ends in
The middle of things
And you begin from
The Outsiders' Inn.
You've never been here,
And you've never been
Anywhere but here.
This is your country,
The one real country,
This hazy landscape,
These forests of sleep,
Not aspirations,
Not fantasies but
The real life you live
Without knowing it,
That life you forget
As soon as you think
You've reawakened.
You may, if you wish,
Imagine yourself
As an alien,
But citizenship
Is already yours
If you but claim it.
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