Her raspy voice cracked the chill
Of sub life climates, ice shells on illusions
Of limitless childhood.
Her hair greyer, flatter, her body grander but more fragile.
Or just me.
a year past flung and flinging
In feverish pitches with pointless posters and presentation.
I never open the laminated menu.
I am a sog of man wilted before the waitress
“honey” that diner dose of tea and pie.
Though the bill comes so soon
another lifetime will pass, with
only fleeting moments flash in fps to slow to…Read more