The thumb to surface feel of a clean water glass
In the stone gray, midday twilight of my indoor/outdoor kitchen
Stays me, steadies against
the kamilica caj fed fever
against my near forgotten, near absent self
Ears stopped up with poetry
to push out the sound of foriegn monotony
toliet paper to buy
citrus to hunt in late January
provocative. i can just FEEL this poem. LOVE it.
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