Thursday

by on February 23, 2022 :: 0 comments

throats crowd with words
& i cannot clearly hear what is said.
two women argue about this & that.

there is a laugh
then a gunshot
then sirens for the dearly departed.

i lick my fingertip & turn the page,
and turn the page,
and turn the page,

amen.

editors note:

We’re numbed, afoul of the daily feed. – mh clay

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