I
write
I
wrong
None
of it makes any difference anyhow
Simple
syrup
High
fructose crack
Lost
in the pavement of her vaudeville love
Want
to make love to her when we’re both asleep
My
best lines come when consciousness is slapped down hard
What
I desire and what I’ve settled for are cosmos apart
I
am wrong
I
am right
None
of it makes any difference now
Charles Cicirella
4/8/2019 
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