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A work in progress from two years ago,
now getting some more work.
Comments welcome.

   You are the person
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   You are the person I am dressing up as.

   You are the woman at the hairdresser
   and the man on the stage
   and the person I want them
   to imagine, when they read
   my messages.

   You are full of pieces of everyone.
   You are awake at 4am
   talking intensely into a mobile phone
   in a bar somewhere in America.

   Then you are on your private broomstick,
   beaming yourself home and catching a nap

   Then you are having breakfast, just
   like anyone does, but later

   Then you are out, anywhere, clattering,
   prancing, gathering your pieces of everyone

   taking them back to your secret cauldron
   mixing them, making chequered magic
   in your stainless-steel kitchen
   in your weird old house
   with paintings by Dali and murals of yourself
   in your big black hat and boots and cloak
   with beat poets and musos and lamas and prophets
   and incense and alcohol hangin' in the air,
   y'know, you

   are the person I am dressing up as.

Janet
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Janet Jackson <[log in to unmask]>
Poems at Proximity: 
http://www.arach.net.au/~huxtable/janet/proximity.html

"As long as space remains,
as long as sentient beings remain,
until then, may I too remain
and dispel the miseries of the world."
                           Shantideva
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