It is foreign to me
That’s why I like it
The glass-bead-game
Being played out in its most articulated level
These young men
Brought here for different reasons
Competing for different thin
Weaving it from the membranous thoughts
It is the mystery
And I pursue, stupidly
There is so much I don’t know
There is so much to understand
As I am wrought and rendered
These stupid activities
That have come to consume my life
in their complexity
I am made
simple.
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