Tag: poet
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guess it must be autumn again
at times the evenings feel like acid wash decay, personal microcosms with windows sealed shut and the incessant patter of rain like ice swirling around a summer drink tipped over and poured down the sink, grinding in the disposal all the way down. there are moments where I don’t think i’m real because I’ve entered…
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Google tells me I’m dying
the arch of my foot hurts Google tells me I’m dying my poetry’s getting worse it’s like I’m not even trying it’s asinine I’m pretending that word is mine I asked Google what it meant before this it still told me I’m dying I’m trying to sound more manic than I am all short fuses…