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Thursday, March 8, 2007



I know it's cosmic!
It's like, heavy man!

Mystery inscrutable to regular
Analytical tool. Logic beyond scope
Of regular academic exercise.

Even with reference to twenty ancient
Texts I could not begin to fathom
How in that parking garage
Jareck, who always had kept counsel
His own, -- this, the one instance only! --
The days' normal business routine,
And gathered up patience enough so
To explain to me, more than half-dozen,
Separate times, a truth that had eluded
Ken, until the very early morn when
During a heavy rainstorm I drove
Through Brooklyn and brought you flowers.

You, sister, Oeland, Baltic island woman;
Me sprung from the land-locked plains of Illinois.

Consider it, the millions-to-one odds
Stacked against our favor. I... I, I mean, duh!

I trust you may come to believe
That matter rests outside human command.
Whatever the divine designates together
No mortal may draw asunder.

This is it! I do! I do love you!

Tonight the pilot naps in the back seat.
I fly the aircraft. The bright,
Rollover arrows signal the glide path.
And over the wire direct to my ear,
Ten thousand watts propel the voice.
It says, 'You do! You do love her!'

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