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Because I am Looking to Complicate My Biography I Go Out to Buy a Tree

I sit with my head in the meadow and compare it to the stones

In my biography I own a home

I associate my home with pleasant feelings

In my biography I am very sleepy

I go sit on a stump and a log

Sometimes for days I am moving

I weep all night for my child

In my biography epaulets grow in sorrow

I braided them myself the golden worms

And I am a horse owner I own a horse

In my biography we are an island

Food arrives and news and ammunition

Very slowly I move to the cellar

What I have buried there I still adore

Award-winning poet of 'The Trees The Trees'. Author of 'The Crying Book'. Published in The New Yorker, Poetry, & more. Former fellow at Emory.