stop making sense, part one
a dip in cold water after days in the rough looking directly at the sun new days new ways to think about the same old things bugging me i wait for the chill to take over again and again
that blues song in my head ever changing ocean breeze and clarity objects of my hunger as somewhere on river street a mime mesmerizes strangers looking for the void they misplaced looks on their faces telling life stories
a lottery window in the middle of poverty seems right somehow i forgot what it was like to be cold and hungry luck like ours is hard to come by days turning into night unfulfilled
but wait i see now that i was mistaken the roads wind on but there’s no cars now polluted alternatives to lost causes
i remain… wondering
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