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I was never fast enough for algebra
Or so I was told
So here I am with you
Exposing my soul
If an area where we lack
In others we bestow
Mine is stone sculpture
With enough confidence to hold
Like a stream running through many things
At its swiftest is where its clean
But the slowly rotating swirls
Are just cloudy murky merles
So what you do with ease
Is bound to please
What is murky and slow
Probably will not satisfy you so
Some are shamelessly supported by nepotism
I wonder where their scruples go
I study joy and tragedy
One could call it Carusoism
{Scroll up for poem or home}
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