Two darkened flood bulbs, in their mod white sockets
refuse to acknowledge me, even while I sleep below
in a space where there was a bar. Their nose: a decom-
missioned smoke eater. I consider adjusting the cones
for morning receptions closer to resembling empathy.
frag. "Fresh from The Nest"
by Hoolie
Probability and Statistics
2 days ago
No comments:
Post a Comment