Ning: This poem is illegible.
Vidhya: There's a reason for that. If you're not happy with something, blunt it to the edge of comprehensibility. Aren't many ah the author's art works actually 2nd rate poems?
Ning: To turn junk into art: that should be done with more things.
Vidhya: It's a process of alchemy. We must all must become alchemists. Nothing should be wasted – just recycled. If something doesn't fit now, relax. In another time & place, it'll all come together in some way.
Ning: There's something interesting about rejected poems. To me, the things that don't fit are more interesting than those that do . . .

Urban Pastoral
Today I walked thru fields
of grass, lace, and clover
away from concrete, steel, and glass
moving towards a vestige of nature
where peace and silence last.

Passing by a putrid river
littered with industrial waste
I stepped over a rotting fish
and sensed for certain
if we do not cherish our planet
there will be no future
no hope 
no place.

Philyra: This looks like poetry going through the guts of someone getting a hi-tech optical probe.
Elijah: Well, reading is like digestion.
Andrei: You know, beer is good for that.
Jules: [Gerping loudly] Don't remind me!
Ellesha: You guys are so primitive!
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