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Apr 2021
when we trace the fear
backwards
we come upon treasure
that was lost
like the canary in the coal mine.

I am not cool,
and that is cool.

hummus is cool,
and it loves people
more than I do.

The laughing shadowy girl
who stood at midnight
by the flowering tree
is cool.

I stand in a city of glass,
dying so deep
near the message river,
uncool.

The only true currency
in this bankrupt world
is what you share with someone else
when you're uncool.
Written by
Ryan Buynak
295
 
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