Written by the poet forty years ago.

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Recorded Reading (1:07): https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/ll7w40icdqp36janox2pq/Come-Destiny.mp3?rlkey=htes0yhkb87a7yri2u5l5ai5i&st=o23csfjz&dl=0

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Come, Destiny

Come Destiny, thou wild haired, wanton wench!
Thou wouldst as soon destroy as e’en behold —
Come pluck me from this wooden student’s bench,
My soul with awesome, windy wings enfold!

I see thee, waiting near me in the wood
So vigilant — I never see thee sleep
Thine rapier drawn, on this side of it good
The other evil far away to keep

Yet should I slip upon the twisting path
Or fail to see a sign, or miss a door
I know I should incur thine instant wrath
Nor be permitted earthly light the more

For ’twas to thee that I was consecrate
When midwifed by the iron hand of fate

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This poet works for the good of her nation and society, seven days a week.

She’s in a pretty bad fix right now ~ due to the new crime of online targeting already homeless, now for the same reason the van she lives in has stopped running. Not a hope of fixing it without donations.

SHE WILL NOT SIGN AWAY HER CIVIL RIGHTS AND ABANDON HER POSSESSIONS TO ENTER IMPRISONMENT IN A “SHELTER.” SHE WILL NOT WAIT FOR IMPRISONMENT FOR AN UNPAYABLE FINE.

One ticket is death. Real.

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