Wednesday, January 4, 2017

9040. WHAT CAN I DO?

Mr. 401 has come home once more.
A heavy day's work, and he's down
on the floor, a long face drooping
and tired. Life gets like that. We
get caught up and mired in all 
that we do. Running the chambers
of chance, in a lost age of doing,
and wanting, and heave.
This pressure subsides, only much
later : as if in a dream, some old
guy dawdlling over a long-lost 
supper, and looking like nothing
you'd have ever expected. You
don't want to stay, but you
don't want to leave.

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