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While on my travels I wrote a couple of poems in a little book that had my travel itinerary in it, and this was read through by a Canadian border patrol guy who gave me a hundred questions too.
we listen for the silence
but all we hear is noise
down in the underground
where the creatures are keeping time
they don’t hear our voices
they won’t look for the signs
too busy with their purpose
counting minutes as they say goodbye
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