WENDY JOHNSON

You stand here and make your statement.

 

That’s it.
You want to fight with existence?
Go for it. You want to scream?
Knock yourself out.

 

Just remember:
your words go out to the universe,
all your words, to be, I don’t know,
recycled among the living—like
rain, like part of—
some ecology of the spirit.

 

It’s the last and only time you have
to give your side of the story, as
far as I know.