By | 1 February 2017

And when you find an entire cigarette on the
ground* but you’ve never smoked anything,
it seems like there’s a wide universe offering
you lung-cancered perfection, no longer

content with your ease of breath. Wander
the streets on any council pickup day in
any rich suburb and see this gift shining
up like a twenty cent piece, over and over.

I have this dream: I’m back in track nineteen
listening to Gretchen Parlato through
heaps expensive headphones and it’s

changing my brain somehow (*between
the edges of a parked car and the curb you
can sometimes glimpse stuff like this).

This entry was posted in 78: CONFESSION and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Related work:

Comments are closed.