Flown to the
winged seed that’s grown to
the tree that was
blown to hell and gone
for a thing called
you and me
the goldfinches are
background
and there’s still a few
red squirrels
left in this town
midnight’s strike
will tear off that
wedding gown
and wherever you get left
is just where you’ll be
and I’ll laugh at you
staked out on the lawn
like a suburban sacrifice
or maybe I’ll just yawn
it’s a lie that things are
darkest before the dawn
but I won’t argue that point
frankly
what
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