down hard downtrodden,
the century rolls it's linear discourse into a fractional package
bursting at the seems with animosity towards consistency
with previously parallel lines and a buttered popcorn stain
or hail storm romances bouncing off concrete like 25 cent prizes
lights in tunnels and school buses filled with midnight cackles, dreamt up
by all the dreamers i can fit in my back pocket. howling, laughing.
swept up and around or on top of the dual beams supporting the sky.
and as beer can city topples in every direction we're all supposed
to act as interim mayor, supporting slapdash opinion or clinging to
a rock face precipice. gasping for air every blue moon, every
sidewalk holiday
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