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guy scutellaro
Poems
Aug 2021
inside the skinner box into the pyre
no shinning light
ambulances and cop cars and nightmares
concrete and ashesΒ
streets too dead for dreaming
the abandon buildings
like tombstones waiting
as night edges prison walls
in the vanishing landscape
we were kings of the neon sky
and when the bars close
through puddles of lost tomorrows
running every red light
on main street
in a sun turned black as night
we were the kings of the neon sky
Written by
guy scutellaro
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