
I have a sore back.

it falters and falls down,
it calls you up drunk at three or four a.m.
to wonder when...wonderful.

Pulled along or pulled apart.


it's littered with settings and second takes.
I have a feeling that hums with the street lights
and hides under ice in always frozen lakes.

Another greeting like a broken creaky hinge to oil
and push or pry apart.

Found a cure for being sure,
and, sure as anything,
I'll smile for my reckoning.
1 comment:
rad connections, these.
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