Sal, I – Poem by John Francis Tracey

Sal, I. 


It is of a just character,

to not burden oneself, nor others 

with pungent anger. 


Of such a thing, 

one must not allow it

to be seeded; 

a rampant rake. 


Do not busy oneself – 

treat the soil 

as the figs foretold the Romans. 


Now to concern ourselves 

for a moment, with 





I have not yet found such a potent mineral. 


John Francis Tracey


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