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Valentine Aug 24
drove down to the cemetery
hitting potholes head on
down gravel roads
praying a hole six feet deep
filled by a cushiony bed
would welcome me with open arms
and a sermon to bless my slumber

drove up to the grange
tires skidding and kicking dust
up in the dirt parking lot
wishing upon an American flag
stars torn up by the wind
that those gusts would lift me up
and give me a ride to heaven

driving up and down this hill
over and over
when i should've driven to the airport
and left the world for good
A brothel
struck brother
and blue
rife this
shanty with
boo catchy
slogan these
standing drabs
of ire
in his
bill hop
splendor wouldn't
mend his
heart for
this time
in Oakland
it said
formaldehyde
a fatuous ****** was
a mystery
while political recovery went
to Landon
with a host of boomers
that threw in their towels
and modular things
like miniskirts
that accentuated their legs
with gratitude of marks
whether paper may trigger darkness
while without clement
in stranger areas of lament
that cry for their cement
as Alfred was a governor of Kansas

— The End —