sometimes, I’m the cloud looking around the sky, assessing my own kind he’s too fat she’s too thin they’re too bossy, that one’s overly shy those are too white, and those not white enough I dispar
if I could capsulize my life now, it would be late afternoons, a recurring event of time spent staring out the picture window into a quieting backyard, shade chasing the sun’s paintbrush across the wa
foreclosed houses, unhoused dogs apartments for rent, souls desperate to rent employment for schemers and dreamers, the mouthless market of buy and sell a blur of need pinned to a bulletin board eve
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