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heavy-lidded mornings awaken me with urgency –

 

a day tap-tapping its way into the city block, an afternoon

pulling in with

slow heavy steps –

cells and spreadsheets, systems and proposals

can endow a sense of importance, entitlement,

or they can weave a web of crazy comfort that

warms the limbs and cools the heart, or maybe,

it’s the sun rolling on the sloping red roofs

of houses across the road…

 

the burned garlic soup for dinner last night did not agree with me –

I walked through the night-streets into a row of half-homes that

would not stop for me – a woman died and I couldn’t find tears in my bag –

and somewhere in all of this, a man shook hands with me

for a job well done

in a brightly-lit office in the city block.

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