the wind continued

across the sand


he didn’t notice anymore


he straightened himself

in the old wooden chair


pulling his brim

to his line of sight

it’s almost noon on Thursday

and I’m thinking about a long dead friend


Cooper County #Fair


Cooper County Fair

rituals intended to invoke

something other than what emerged

from that great shock

that so few remember



in waves over the city

then the entire region

came to settle in a thick soup


you could almost see it

if you were one of those

who could cut through the

apathy you’d always known


most couldn’t though

and they slunk about

irritable yet unmoved

never knowing why

one dark eye

reached her hidden

black strands concealed the other


her smoke wisp girl approached

grasped her pale throat

put lips to red lips


please, come and ingratiate yourself

tell me you like the things I say, my attitude, my fucking shoes

when you’ve had enough of me just give me the finger and tell me how awful I am

words like bits of food
spilling out of gaping mouths
tumbling onto shirts
greasy with remnants
of previous conversation

i thought i was hungry
i must have been mistaken



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