The Breathing End of Oblivion
Bad poetry and prose from the dark heart of my dreams
Sunday, September 1, 2013
puddles and circumstance
Her foot steps drum
through rainbow puddles
staining sidewalks sleepy
in quiet after hours
broken but by laughing coughs
and distant sirens caterwauling
toward those unfortunate denizens
bested by circumstance,
beaten by this night.
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