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Aug 2018
the cat silences with a scritch under the chin,
the basement is organized in bins
the **** garden mocks my back
the inbox smugly holds its stacks

each moment a jump from clockface
slash to slash

wife lays in the afterglow, flies buzz two and fro, night stages house creaking, shingle colors leaking, dishes sit sloppily in the sink,

the ticking drives me to tears
Written by
Casey  57/M/RI
(57/M/RI)   
568
     ---, guy scutellaro, Willoughby, --- and ---
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