from my own experience


Wrinkled  faces worn to play look out for businessmen in unlit stairwells. Surrounding trash cans lie the overflow of last night’s discharge.  Styrofoam cups of frozen coffee decorate ledges mantles and historical landmarks.  Story tellers, mythologists and the terribly wounded gather and sit sorry, awaiting their next bone.  Crowded fowl gnaw at the gelid ground, receiving little for their gnawing.  Ideas of what’s right and what was wrong dance to the noise of  5 generation’s songs all playing at once.  At 1 degrees fahrenheit, time was finally able to thaw life back into motion


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