Not EvenA Rug.
Flipped light
focuses on
earths rotation.
A weeping child,
screams in the
middle of NYC.
This blue jean marching band
lights firecrackers under my
cemented feet.
At last!
A moment of clarity.
Seeing the wife
without morals
caked on with
whore like eye
darkened makeup.
3 am still pacing…
In my dirty blue sleep pants.
Carrying on like no ones business
about love and how it hates me.
Glowing low tide
sinks into gods hands.
I am lost in the warm milky water….
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