• Vol. 06
  • Chapter 03
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Maw of Kites

I woke today to forgive
the gum under the
table that fell on my jeans.
                       It the was most food                              I’d seen in weeks.
Skin still feels similar to the
the pocked kitchen tiles,
down the stairs and a swing
around the banister.
I sang damn close
with the birds
on the window sill
                       (crackled and doddery).
Run around dawn and
tap its other shoulder,
to gleam and cheep,
to sail acorn caps in a pothole,
to get a whiff of a dumpster skunk,
the same drink.
But today,
so drunk –
Who knows what woke me?