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Oct 2019
We are among the unlucky ones
Abundant silence siphons your soul
In slow-motion we roll on the pavement
Making snow-angels on the concrete
The heat of day gives way to icy treats
We buy them with money from your pocketbook
You are confused by this corruption
Its controlling our moods and our mouths
Until we see sparrows come out of them
I am half asleep in your window sill
Please shut me out and i’ll return with music and vinegar
We are the rolling hips of Elvis’ illegitimate children
You shook me to my soul until i needed a vacation
We are all born chasing spiders
Into the heartbeat of deceit's oblivion
Ganesha Michael Shapiro
36
 
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