4pm: Ticonderoga, NY
More by Love to write
-
Self-Portrait at 18
I know it’s a bad title
but I’m carving these words
out of my compacted mind.
I’m trying to mix the mud of my thoughts
into something more coherent
than to do lists and quiet -
Authorized Entrance Only
There is no twilight in the city.
Only time we collect in our mouths,
sun peeling color off the streets,
rats skittering down sidewalks.
The fire escape has been painted gold.
It shimmers at night, -
Ellipse
The record down the hall sounds like the static of space, drawn out and fading, as if a comet streaked by, leaving a trail of sound in its wake.
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