follow the woman without shoelaces 

    this time every morning 
    working the pocket theater 

    I asked to accompany grief because 
    nothing has prepared her 

    working by the courthouse I can’t 
    tell the children to go to camp 

    I have to go to work and the duplicator frenzy 

    how heavy my lids in the room’s wasted light! 

    the children are acting out a commercial 
    they look like small fathers 

    again 
    the sleepworn shirt gives me away 

     

 
 
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