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Charles Serio ©2011 all rights reserved.
Poetry
There are some things
I'll never say
No matter how I try.
This is one.

Sometimes you think
It's part of the process
Then suddenly you realize
That's all that there is.

There is so much left to say
There are so many things to do
There are billions and billions of others
Just like you.

You'll never understand this
We possess no device to communicate
I tried to explain this to you once
But the Arts Council wouldn't
Give me the hundred grand to produce it.

Malcolm X was right
Malcolm X was wrong
Let's follow and not follow him
All day long.

'SOME OF THESE'

Some of these are cute
And some of these are not
Some of these unravel
Like a sailor's knot.

Some of these are cute
And some of these are not
This one definitely is not
It's not.

He doesn't take up space
Neither though does she
Neither one nor the other
Now this one's cute.

Some of these
And some of these
This one
Is.

'SOME MORE OF THESE'

Some of these are
And some of these are
This one is
It really is.

This one is is
This one is not
Is not is not is not not not
This one is.

Some
Of
These
Are.

This is the very first
After the one before
But that one's for later
This one's not.

The train has stopped
The rain has come
The rubbish skims
The train has gone.

One black shoe
Pounded in the rain
Where is your partner?
Where is your twin?

It's later than it was
Now later
Still later
Now it is as it was before.


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THIS ONE'S NOT