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The man who sleeps in the diner's back booth
will not care  if your mother suffers  from
plantar diabetic neuropathy, or that your
cousin read **** and gulps *****.  

No,  trivial matters will not worry him
because he ****** himself dormant
after he awakens, that will be
his primary concern.
She dug ***** after
***** of soil until
the hole was

long, and deep enough
to cover Brownie’s tan
and white speckled
body;

I was twelve years
old, and Beverly
fourteen.
I learned of life’s fragility
as I left home for

fourth-grade class
one May morning

to find boots with
a body attached

under our tall
juniper
tree.
*****
Mood stabilizers
Anti-psychotics
Xanax
Silence never felt to heavy

Just don't stop coward
Write what's in your heart
Like a doe leaping over fences
Entrails, somehow it fits
Snow on the lawn in Texas
A ****** salt nose dripping on lips
A first kiss in a creek surrounded by mule deer

Two spaces between each empty place
How do they get their names on
The **** bottle

Sitting on Orchard road, in front of the towers
Waiting for a friend or two
The six pack turning warm in its plastic bag
Taking sips under an umbrella in the rain
Espresso and Guinness
**** me for trying
I went to the top of the hill
Asked the dancer
All she knew about love
She told me everything
I was too ******
Don't remember a thing

I asked the traveling waif,
She'd been married six times
She said,
"I'm the canary in the mine
I always believed
I always died"

The blind man told me
He didn't see a thing

The deaf man kept waving his fingers at me

The mute said nothing
I couldn't believe what I heard

I put on my hiking boots
I headed on down the road
Instead of a lamp
I had my heart on my sleeve

I talked to the cops
talked to the ******
I talked to the poets
I talked to the perpetually scared
Talked to those who took the dare

I looked everywhere

The message was clear
Acceptance
Taking care
That's all I ever really learned
I think that's something
I already knew

But then again
I haven't asked you.
Heading for the Sierras, be back next week
carbon copy
******* kids
all square and full of holes
chasing
someone else's dreams
doing only as they're told

gaping wounds
conformity
it's useless to resist
grayscale thoughts
behind closed eyes
rainbows do not exist

follow the leader
play pretend
grown-up rules, abide
broken backs
and camel straws
there is no place to hide

technicolor
memories
it was just a game
forty years
of servitude
society's to blame

here and now
when youth is young
and colors bold and bright
uncharted paths
with neon skies
teach them hold true and tight

planets turn
and water flows
when dreams, have yet, to die
tomorrows
more than yesterdays
the young see bluer skies
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