taxi days
days
and the way days and days
change our ways
if i pay my fare in words
are you for hire
and will you drop me there
at life’s desire where
the dark downs like a cat
eye-lidden the fire begs
to be lit
but light can be denied for
a time for a short while
there is a music wormhole in the veil
and then we’re through and it closes
why are the tear ducts cemented
the tears build up to a pulp of roses
at three hundred pounds per square inch
thoughts unable to whip stop the stallion
galloping away until we are left
with the flies and empty reigns
in hands that smack of despair
the needle has sewn the pastiche quilt
it’s time to sleep
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