Professional Slacker Savant (poetskaboy) wrote,
Professional Slacker Savant
poetskaboy

Random poem

I reach for deeper meaning and find only description
of the traffic facing looking glass
with burger posters screaming.
I indulge in my one of many vices
pouring fat into my veins instead of fermented octane.
The streets darken outside and the a/c is chilling and I don't want to go home just yet.
The sun no longer begs attention shining off to my left side
it has disappeared beneath horizon
I almost expect to see my breath outside
instead of the sweat I know I'll find
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