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Click to hear a reading of this poem.

drone

near the end
you chose the monotone

you had your fill
of chord progressions
bouncing like billie

or children playing in the grass
chasing soap bubbles
until they burst

all you wanted
was a steady drone

a placid ostinato
oscillating in the background
like hummingbird wings

or a rothko canvas
consuming your vision
with one fundamental color

 

 

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