Struck acute, I dine alone
& sad; like a burned
out carcass of a car in
a ghetto in Paris I
am too tired to riot.
You cling translucent
To my rustic children, a
Petrol-slick & I long to
Say hello. Tears in my soup,
eyes in my mouth. How
can we have an exchange when
you’re being so quiet. Hello.
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