Short Poem No.25

Now what’s happened is that the decay has gotten back
down into the gum line and you’ve got to understand, we
tried, we did what we could, Champ, it’s got to go
.

The house tour was like a corral, though
the feelings suggest a slow down, the muse
of youth, a picture on the browning wall.

Dear mom, I still sleep in my clothes.

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