The poet they probably shouldn’t have sent. I watch anime and am sometimes accused of reading books. I'm writing a long gay giant robot story in verse—probably this millennium's best yuri mecha epic poem, through lack of competition.


'Now praise those names on tombs of steel engraved | And toll this rotting country’s countless bells.'


And did you tell a clutch of jokes,
did music swamp your days?
And did you pain endured cloak
by telling long-brewed lays?

And did you know what quick-speech calms
when sister cries at night?
And did you teach such spells as arm
against the smoke-dance sprite?

I hope your self you loved although
the books speak naught but birth.
Perhaps you better stood to know
in truth a person's worth.

The 'lucky mother' or 'Mitochondrial Eve' is the earliest surviving woman from whom all living humans trace matrilineal descent (not, somehow, the first woman, as other matrilineal lines will have died out).


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