Sum of Their Parts

On the perambulated promenade,

Men of my own Chinese animal pass by.

They are not weighed down by life,

Dutifully pushing again, the womb fruit toward sunlight.

I once false circled their orbit before truth re-entered.

Lonely has a certain gravity to it.

These equations come with no solution

I am the remainder.

Poem by Algo Gourley

Image by Adam Strong

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