Untitled
By Nicole K., Sudbury, MA
This is a poem. It is not poetic, but it is a poem.
Right now it is what you are reading. This second
you are reading the word, word. Now you're reading,
reading. You don't even realize what exactly you are
reading until someone like me tells you. You is what
you have just read, just read. I know all of this, and
I'm not even with you. Chances are, I don't even know
you. I don't know who you are, but you just read who
you are, so I guess you do. You just finished reading
do, and now, again, do. And again. Now it's again.
Again again.
I, probably being a stranger to you, know every single
solitary word you are reading now. For instance, I know
you're reading, reading. I also know that in a couple of
seconds, you will read this over again, or read something
altogether different. Or, maybe you'll do neither, just
to oppose what I have said. But I know you're still
reading, so you had better do something else.
You just read, you just read.
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