06 Jan
Feel the pass of my eyes. Burning out
From the third - fore and center, looking out.

What is this? Ask without questing out,

4 A question cannot see. Raying out
like a laser beam without.

Said, “You were a buttoned-up hippie,
a trucking freak, a plastic buddha.”

Raisins for sight. No moisture about
staring, just staring

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Posted by on January 6, 2022 in Poetry


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