on an oatmel overcast
day. Bird baths morph
to harlem poverty stricken
kiddy pools.
The fun mirror of
pulsating ripples giving
facial integrity to those
who hide. My thoughts
spill into this makeshift reservoir
telling me about the
last Newport, crushed
soft packs made for serious
smokers. Pensive static
staring back, testing the
reflexes of a swaying frame
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