Saturday, March 16, 2019

Success Logging You In


Suburban-blasted H. thought it was gonna be difficult
to stand among the medaled
and talk about a grey old nurse & father
to Ginzy while no one expected much.
Such was the union of souls back then:

a grey time, no allowances and the Union
Kept together by a thread. Still, he worked
everyday even if was just reading
the sad poems of post-adolescence.
Those he marked with black pen,

in handwriting to hard to read. He blamed
some odd neurological disease he couldn’t pronounce.
These days, these days. News he
could never come back alright,
news he could not begin the flight.

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