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Melissa Rubio Nov 2010
I am tired, man. Tired of this town.
The talking sounds like noise and
the noise sounds like bugs.
Black and white--
Can’t get past the colors.
Can’t get past the walls.
Everyone is waiting for a grenade.
We are all shells drifting in the flooded streets.
I am tired, man. Tired. Tired of this town.
Melissa Rubio Nov 2010
I feel like the old soul has emerged again.
White couch sat in front of the window.
Brown legs perched up on the sill
and jazz piano with soft symbol and snare.
Tap,stizz,stizz, tap
My foot audible in the back
Ba, da, ba, ba, da, bah!

— The End —