I want to see things as they are /
without me. Why, I don’t know. /
As a kid I always looked /
at roadkill close up, and poked /
a stick into it. I want to look at death /
with eyes like my own baby eyes, /
not yet blinded by knowledge. /
I told this to my friend the monk, /
And he said, Want, want, want.
- Chase Twichell
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