We began in the dancing,
Neither dancers nor the dance
Ourselves, just questions hanging
From the body heat rising.
We had to evaporate.
We were vapors. We vanished
With our answers, but at least
We glanced at them happening.
And some things happened
As we had hoped they’d happen.
Others happened as they did.
Scatter me in the Slocan,
And read my damned poems,
If you can stand them.
Read my damned poems when you can.
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