lonely in all the little ways a smile became a new blue visage and in came an un-budging two-meter stretch between the future
and the present. And how long can one hope for endings? the miserable insignificance of endings if not this, another if now, later constancy hanging like a stench bitter and sardonic something that the hopeless anticipation of something better can’t mask for much longer
there’s agitation in their three tiers in the queues of panicked shoppers in the watching through hedges as neighbours clap for the underpaid waiting for a reason to bring in the men in uniform
20 seconds isn’t enough to wash away the loneliness of the bereft and jobless