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May 2014
The temporary home that I
Occupy is guarded by Cerberus. Three
Pit bulls barking at the gate and jumping

On my chest with sharp claws, but this
idiot wasn't always here.
In early years walked in the evergreen

rain; listening to raindrops click on canvas
of a hood centimeters far from the head, and
when night would come, stare out in to

pinhole nights bargaining with god
on pain and boredom. “I swear if
you would give me a sign, I will do good.”

Then the crickets would laugh, while
The trees hissed their endless secrets, so
There was nothing found that day.

In this trailer, now, the water burns
My skin; bringing roses of blood to
The surface, and leaking

Out of my gums, so each night
I drink the wine to fill my belly
With ideas of T.S. Eliot, or Ginsberg,

But looking like a ******* quack, and
Crying to old songs that used to hold
Different meanings.

My mother lives inside the sea;
A million lost dust specks sinking
To the bottom of the trenches,

Swimming about sea creatures
And fish that glow in the
Endless darkness of the depths.

I thought so many times that I’d
Follower her there through the
River, and if you give me a sign

God, I will, but I keep snagging
Myself on the sage brush outside
The front door, and my legs

Grow heavier. When I go to sleep
Tonight I’ll fall asleep in mind that
My dog is resting in the landfill

On town’s end, and I've thought
That I could grab him there; maggots
Filling up the eye holes. If you give

Me a sign, God, I will. The
Fan flies over head, and the
Computer hums loudly for one second.
Sam Lincoln
Written by
Sam Lincoln  Caldwell Idaho
(Caldwell Idaho)   
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