Glib to blue
this year long fescue
don’t ask me
I was there 
now, I’m here
365 years later
I mean days
I mean daze
of disease and cutting 
despair and push to restart
I read, I wrote
I lay there dumbfounded
which means
throw me in a wheelbarrow
load me over with cement block
pin me down to presence
grate the goods
disassemble, reassemble

One thought on “Year

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