Sunday, May 15, 2016

8159. HOLD

HOLD 
Hold my hand then you hunky-dory
postmodern. We can park my car while
you smoke yet another damned cigarette.
It's only because you know I'm duty-bound
to be at your funeral that you do this at all.
I don't know how it goes. I used to think
you'd be at mine, but now I'm not so sure.

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