On the Side of the Road

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Stuck to the feathers,
lacquered pale,
bone covering jacket,
red leather smeared
seat cushions.
Winged cross-reference,
hunting down the pavement,
alignment to the mirror,
why did they cross?

A tumble over,
a flop generated
to stun the fish
like great tales at sea,
a whale in defense.

Coral make by land
coiled in the grill,
facing the sun,
broken teeth.

Feast,
Night mealer,
stalking the walkway,
struck by daylight,
meal for darkness,
meal for family.

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I forgot today,
as if it had been blown away.
I forgot this morn,
half pass of the sun,
and the eve when it is gone.
I forgot the sound of waking bell,
and the shot of sleeping smells.
I forgot the grueling working hours,
and the ones tilling poppy flowers.
I forgot my nightly prayer,
and will never wake to figures aired.

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He’s the one that fell asleep,
bled to death on satin sheets;
let the dog break out of cage,
snacking on packs of saltines.
Inevitably feeding,
frustratingly,
on owner’s bones,
led beast, too distressed, to snack
and fall asleep alone.
Home, for weeks,
left to cave,
knocked on doors,
weeks out of grave;
cremation essential,
life abandoned:
significance – none,
funeral home – typical attraction.

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Homeless man
begging for cans,
asking for change
and never receiving it.
It doesn’t make sense
how one, with no money,
can do anything and everything,
and you can’t think
of a single use for a quarter.
It takes a fourth of a notion
to put this thought into motion;
we are not defined by profit,
but rich in the experiences,
quickly bagged up
as insignificant.