Actually it’s twenty five minutes to seven
Going to draw these words out of my veins like an unholy
confession
I’m guilty of something as I wait for her to call, quit
or denounce me for all my sins of conflagration
And the words sometimes pour out like unsweetened
evaporated milk
Other times the words chitty chitty bang bang from me
like a bowel movement gone wrong
It’s the price of being free and owning up to nothing
including the responsibility I continue to evade
They think it’s a piece of cake dog paddling down these
streams of consciousness
They believe either the war will be won or at the very least all these battles will not have been in vain
They believe either the war will be won or at the very least all these battles will not have been in vain
And I’m sick and I’m tired, but I refuse to go down easy
because even an idiot wind is right twice a day
Charles Cicirella
8/5/16
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