Matt Margo
erase ahead
repeating
roads fed in full
parking
pump sobbing dead
that
upset bucket brain amazed
knotted
mind lying behind
the
same lead head still hiding
some
something of can’t and won’t
the
worried drive-thru morning mourning
a
puddle of years playing dumb
roadkill
taking the time to change
to
begin to be skin
never
not a waste now
throat
in side out
electric
lawn feeling long
locked
in screaming strings of space
blues
waking to loud music
to
a sure deceiving dance
a
day swallowed slow
the
night uptight
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