Poem #76

“No, no, there’s nothing left here.”

 

My arms, I crossed them.

I’d been cheated.

I was ready for spite, salted spite.

 

“No, no, there’s nothing left here.”

 

In the chest: deflation.

I’d been stirring the brew into

The early hours, when you might as well

Be a dream.

 

“No, no, there’s nothing left here.”

 

I span, saw, and knew it to be true-

There was nothing left here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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