simple things

on my mind, invading my morning like the city invades the open space on which it is built, are things that intrude from the world outside the doors of my sleeping thoughts which were alive with color and surrealism, those sounds of a world that exists all around …

like the sound of the computer, in Mr. Roboto’s voice, reading aloud my neighbor’s chat with someone who clearly has issues.

like needing to moderate The Great Debate amongst the crows this morning.

like wanting 2 feel someone else’s hands washing my back.

like trying to remember how in the world did i ever learn i had to worry about nuclear waste.

like wondering if i stopped thinking about all these things would they just go away?


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