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Nov 2014
How many Someone’s lay planked on their waist and stare aimlessly at the candle’s flame?

Who of You is daring enough to close Your eyes and in space alone, simply drive- drive away?

The same Someone’s and Who’s-of-Who’s, on occasion holler at the moon with expectation of a bark back; or is God but a prestige to fools that We allow to wear Normal on Their crummy ******* name tags?

Sometime around Christmas there is a salivating peace, sifting downward on ordinary people, whom really don’t feel like being cold, you know?

This is me, rotting away on the carpet, a blanket’s blanky for the floor, just staring through the shutters on the vent below my brow; in the reality of it, I should probably schedule a spring cleaning…not for the vent folks.

You see- and I’m trying to be as casual as I can- I’m about to ******* pass out, you know what I’m saying?

This is that incredible moment where I’m the Bob Feller of dozing off, 9 innings of shut-eye talent, but at 2 or 3 in the morning…it looks as though I’m bringing in Mariano Rivera to close it out,

I can almost smell the scraps of mowed grass, kicking up from his cleats as he jogs closer to where home is; I never really find out if he makes it to the mound…
DP Younginger
Written by
DP Younginger  Cleveland, Ohio
(Cleveland, Ohio)   
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