the nights
out a bottle
out a paper tube
on fire
the mornings
a bubble packet
hot horrible coffee
and if timed right
food
the days always hard cheese
a true pig
and theres sweat
sweat and a mindless rush
the mindless rush of faces
faces out there
all mad in a wire fog
and
inside the time
they paint themselves as interaction
and night calls time early
down the backslide of the pm
slowing the suns thrust
and blackening my charge
from italianfood.net
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