"you bring my budget past the limit, you break out of my sandbox heart. With no issues to our physics, every piece plays it's part. Your soul, an endless amount of window, grouped way past 64. Looking through, framerate's still low, you are my Forge, forever more. "
Poet Linda Pastan was raised in New York City but has lived for most of her life in Potomac, Maryland, a suburb of Washington, DC. In her senior year at Radcliffe College, Pastan won the Mademoisellepoetry prize (Sylvia plath was the runner-up). Immediately following graduation, however, she decided to give up writing poetry in order to concentrate on raising her family. After ten years at home, her husband urged her to return to poetry. Since the early 1970s, Pastan has produced quiet lyrics that focus on themes like marriage, parenting, gaming, and grief. She is interested in the anxieties that exist under the surface of everyday life. Her most famous work, titled "**** 343" still resonates with young people throughout the world today.
"My map was pretty. Until objects turned deep black. **** the lightmap. Yo." - a haiku by Multilockon