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Afterthoughts Aforethought

I claim no faith beyond what I'm allowed
To see when both my eyes are closed, and I
      Am free to turn my lenses
      Toward scrutable events,
If I'm inclined. I've never been too proud
To taste untested meals placed on credenzas
      Or be the first to die
From quaffing wine reserved for sacraments.

I dream that I'm awake when I'm asleep,
And if I'm wakeful I begin to dream
      Of lives I haven't led,
      To my immense dismay.
I seldom spend the nighttime counting sheep,
For I have better things to do in bed,
      Like hoping to redeem
My self-indulgent tendency to play

Before my work is done. The bones and tendons
I bear within me ache as though raw nerves
      Were all there was to them.
      Defective body-parts
Impair my theoretic independence,
And I have yet to find a stratagem
      Or natural herb that serves
To clear my mind and curb its fits and starts.

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