Americana Injustica

To sleep through its entirety,

this world clinging to me,

to pass up its absurdity,

and flash by in obscurity;


A couplet,

a trumpet,

wings ripped from a body;


A prophet,

a puppet,

the line thins out steadily;


To keep time to the marching feet,

trotting before and after me,

to be ignored and put to sleep,

and pass by flailing blindly;


A sunset,

a trinket,

sunk too deep to retrieve;


A target,

a portent,

no skin on my knees.




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