seen:
smoking, blowing vapors through
”O” shaped hole
graceful feathered creature
red tailed, bent to wind
I feel, am liquefied
after that:
nothing but self tonight
no fence mending
no bridge building,
balloon inflation
sleep in my clothes
eat potato chips
below a still ceiling fan
where else
organized loneliness
the specter,
supposed calm
company of mundane
alone with this poem
and pepper,
I drop the guys I got
in business suits
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