the maps are not the places that we know
but without maps the places make no sense
armed with these guides onward we aim to go
and reading them makes simple what is dense
the routes are traced each journey and each ride
we've been there before or else it is unknown
we press along taking note how on each side
of the long road the kudzu's thriven and grown
the map shows no road the pictures show no trace
of where we go and what we hope to see
we know what's there we have a sense of place
but the camera shows no house but a tree
this is reality we know we cannot gild
we have no choice we buy we have to build
Odd ravings, comments, and other wastes of time. Some are in plain prose, yet others are in rhyme.
26 September 2006
which is our address?
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