what was this supposed to be again?
I think I left my keys in the car.
the nightbird sings a song
the humid air beats down like
a while-worn five hundred miles.
a roach tapped against the glass.
a gasp is stuck in my throat like
gross times vomit-up and eye lids
shut.
the keys are in the car and this poem means nothing.
Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 12:43 AM UTC
what was this supposed to be again?
I think I left my keys in the car.
the nightbird sings a song
the humid air beats down like
a while-worn five hundred miles.
a roach tapped against the glass.
a gasp is stuck in my throat like
gross times vomit-up and eye lids
shut.
the keys are in the car and this poem means nothing.
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