|One Howl From The Avenues|
| Waking up cold and half-dead|
Vile to the eyes of the world
With no one to sleep beside you
No soulmate to lead you home
When numbness seems like the safe route
Life takes a dive into gray
Struggling for some spared quarters
Half-smiling, you just don't care
In the end you have the . . .
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|A Poem That Might Become Untrue|
| The Browns will never win the Super Bowl, |
I’ll die one day, away from all those things,
my head inside around above a sea of dark,
and I will never think that patch of life
which stands for nothing and yet means so much.
It means that my experience is a box
from which I can take stuff out, weigh it, see, < . . .
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