There are ladders growing
from the ground
like telephone poles.
Climb to the sun
Climb to a cloud
Climb to the smog
Climb to nowhere.
*
Music is no longer
a fist
It is an open palm
petting your hair.
*
There are no grails here
Only red plastic cups
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1 comment:
That was fantastic. Truthful, too. It's posts like these that made me want to get your name further into the online lexicon of blog purusers.
Keep writing.
From,
IA to LA
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