Friday, December 07, 2007

Slipshod Sonnet #9

waiting to sell lottery tickets to those who have little
use for numerals with the anthem on infinite loop and the
headphone jack broken people taking great care with grand
gestures of elegance but think little of rubbing your nose
in their lunch I could forge captain's bars with all the
wedding rings I've thrown away letting leadership know how
little it is valued the pride the accomplishment oh really
they tell of a place where those things all work out and
you forever realize your potential it's called way the hell
over there a slice on wax paper with heavy cutlery tough
going particularly with such a warp to the table top writing
this blind gives me hope I will be able to read it in better
light soft music hard truths the only thing more questionable
than the small town pizza place is the small town Chinese place

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