type slowly.

PaD – Day…who cares.

Posted in words by Lara Crombie on November 24, 2009

lanes.

Stepped on glass tonight, around 9 near 25th, between lyrics, past trash; yelled at nothing in the distance, felt close, fell aside, dreamt Sinatra, “touché,” he crooned; walked soulless or soleless, on pointed bits of wit, towards trappings, like romantic rendezvous; ate poems, drank poems, left poems for poems, pulled glass from bones, old beats linger, refuse good homes.

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