A vial filled with crushed bone
in the pocket of my jacket.
A yellow dumpster
with the word LINGER
spray painted in black
across its side
Something crunches beneath my sole
I don't look down
to see what it is
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
Hi there, Who still keeps a blog anymore? Old people? Weirdos whose knowledge of the internet stops around 2005? Have we maybe come full c...
-
A man stood on the porch of his row home, smoking and drinking a beer. “Nice night,” he said as I walked past o...
No comments:
Post a Comment