Thursday, May 3, 2012
moans
saccharine sarcasm.
it is in my teeth. eroding.
in a satchel, go ahead,
carry it friend.
"I remember, I was there"
we went north. towards
my past it's a big bad wolf.
"what a tired bedtime story,"
you yawned.
my heart retains much water,
thereby, fat, like
the man with a herniated spine,
I'm alright, friend, I'm fine.
(he moans about it, why can't I?)
you don't remember anything-
even though you were there.
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