The perfect voter has a smile but no eyes,maybe not even a nose or hair on his or her toes,maybe not even a single sperm cell, ovum, little paramecium.Politics is a slug copulating in a Poughkeepsie garden.Politics is a grain of rice stuck in the mouthof a king. I voted for a clump of cells,anything to believe in, true as rain, sure as red wheat.I carried my ballots around like smokes, pondered
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