Leaps and Lines

My, my, what a magnificent leap
she made, soaring over the gaps
and right into the muck and mud
of her false conclusions.

I had the wood and nails
in my hands, bridge blueprints
sprawled out and ready to go,
but she sprang right over it all,
over me,
landing miles off the mark.

I swear,
give ’em two lines
—that’s all they want—
they’ll paint the rest of you
themselves.

It won’t be me, of course.

Their picture’s worth a thousand words,
and they can jumble those words together
an infinite number of ways—
but they’ll never make a story
fit for me

or anyone else
for that matter.

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