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this gnawing
under my skin
to spend $400
on a one way
is driving me
nuts.
I know a man
who sleeps
with a chiquita
box
as a pillow
on auburn avenue
every day I pass him
at 11:00 alseep
in a nook
of the city
and sometimes
for a second
I think about
bringing him
food
or water
but
I tell myself
tomorrow

now I pass that building
his pillow
and blanket gone
and a hipster
juice store sign
is being pasted
on the window

I light
a cigarette
and smoke
one
I do not stop
and wait
for tomorrow
On those nights
That I dare
Sleep alone
I toss
Until my
Feet tangle
In my hair
My back bone
My wind earth
Air
Just missing
The fire
That once
Lay there
every day
i roll over
onto your
sweat soaked
side
of the bed
and i
remember
you thrashing
around
kicking
whimpering
all night
and every day
i wonder
why
my mouth
is
as green
as spring
but
that's not to
say that I
only speak
in tethered
tongues
and mindless
music

that's not to say
i haven't thought
thousands of
pretty
words
and then wrote
three
empty pages

that's not to say
i've held on to
dependent ideals
like ivy on the fence

it's really not
for you to
assume
ruffled curtains
and thousands of
cigarette butts
inside carved containers
lined up
stacked
in rows
crumpled into
callous faces
swept up
and uncovered

pusillanimous
hearts
and heavy lips
skinny coke
cheeks
and art
degrees

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