Huh. Here's a poem I found that said "draft". I remember writing it, but I totally forgot about it. It's dated 4/1/17. I wonder how many other drafts I have in here.
It seems somehow important and relevant that I discovered it TODAY, being the fourth of July and all. I remember I was trying to copy a form (from Gerard Manley Hopkins) and that it involved rhyming, and it was hard, but rewarding. Anyway, happy whatever, America!
Glory be to God for dappled beings —
For humans of couple-color;
For the immigrants' brindled descendants;
Butt-dimpled newborns who cross borders in slings;
Deserts dotted with dolor;
Following the Pied Piper of Independence;
Vainglorious attempts at Euclidian geometry;
Whatever is not-so-evenly divided (smaller);
Freckled, splotched, mottled, transcendent;
He knows that beauty does not rely on symmetry:
Praise Him.
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