Doing the Loop
       

The rules are made in factories.
The rules are made to be broken.

Broken people see themselves in broken things.
Whole towns of broken people work somehow.

Somehow is not a place.
Yet you get there and wonder: how?

How, repeated, is a kind of howl.
In wilds and towns, how answers how.

How do you begin or end?
There are no rules. Begin again.

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Copyright © 2015 Andrea Cohen All rights reserved
from Beloit Poetry Journal
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission