When I sing of Breath based work
lingering dictated art hangs haunting weigh scale shadows
and crawls through chain-link to
hear deft ruts form in familiar themes
My opinion?
If the lo(n/v)ely timing of a lost type writer state of mind
could be but
a brief analysis of
a Melancholy vodka soaked pimento
encased in green
drifting between existence and consumption
maybe I could hear it clearly-
but it’s not.
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