if that's what you want;
it's been done.
But
don't speak to me
of distance
while I'm planted
in this marsh
teetering on cypress knees,
swallowing dragon flies;
don't complain
when my pound of flesh
goes to carrion
and you pull back
your sticky fingers
and there's nothing
that hasn't moved on.
(c) 1997 Susan Paige Shoemaker