Magnifying Glass Plus Ant

by on April 19, 2017 :: 0 comments

The only place open
at this hour in the century: Kohls,

with clothing hung
in rows of full, unoccupied people.

A rabbit-like loneliness
outruns the bike I ride to my insides.

Man who throws
a glare from his eyeglasses
sifts through me:

I am a fake.

editors note:

It is a struggle to find relevance in consumer-land. Best to dodge the glass. (We welcome Daniel to our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of his madness on his new page – check it out.) – mh clay

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