“tendons of a feather”
lost the last bits of clarity
of purpose (as intended)
by the skin of luck & forest
blocked light. trees ringing
a lighthouse aren’t
inspired to greater heights;
nothing could be further from
the truth.
samples of atmosphere are puked
onto t-shirts & bumper stickers
sold at discount shit shops
littering beach roads everywhere.
what do they sell in oklahoma?
i’ve never been there & now is
no time to start.
enough hurricanes for any
coastline; too much knowing
after every bad decision comes
a cock-up redemption attempt
boiling down to the desire
toward continued existence.
all tied together like that,
it’s hard to believe
we were ever separate to
begin with.
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Thoughts on comings & goings. Always one or the other it seems.