speck
in my eyes
blurring
my vision
watering
the skin
on
my face
caught
thought
in my mind
confusion
in thinking
bleeding
my soul
coughing,
hoping to again
think
straight
not
actually wanting
to
think straight
because
anything
not
flexible
might
break
just
a fly
on
the wall here
hearing
all that they say
the
new breed of young ones
hangin’
out
it
still isn’t cool to be the nice guy
nice
guys still don’t get the girl
everyone
has a story
to
prove
they
have done it all
did
I fall asleep
for
a long period of time
or
something like that
rip
van winkle cat
woke
with a beard
was
the old man
over
there ever happy
and
will the three young ones
over
there grow up strong
or
weak
just
a fly on the wall
watching
with
all my eyes
seeing
still—
nothing
concluded. . .
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