MAGIC FINGERS,
WEBHEART
I hurt but not as much. There's a guy
at the corner faking a smoke - one of
those steam cloud vapor things that
look so ridiculous - sucking on a
small metal box as one walks along?
Vast cloud of vapor. It all reminds
me of friends of another day -
sloshing a bolt of Jack Daniels
from a flask at the knee. There
but for fortune goes me.
-
Now, it's all over and I'll go to
my grave with a secret heart. No,
no, no, you won't find me. Thoughts
vanish like a cloud of smoke.
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