Standing on the
platform at wing
listening to Leonard
Cohen and Old Crow’s
Crazy Eyes.
The sun rises
through a small hole
Clouds the forever
land sky scape.
my shoes no
longer fit
My blood is full
of wine.
O pilot please just
get us through
this hole of light
on time.
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Dusk
that lonely place
between darkness
light’s obscure
distant shroud
present like knowledge
breath just passed
step. waltz. decay.
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I attempt
loose calculations
what weight
two pears for breakfast?
then deem
icebreaking
a skill worth
acquiring.
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