SIX DAYS

I touch my tongue to a busted lip
starting this so late
writing this

we never cared
for summertime or armor
dragging up Arctic Avenue

slinking in with a wink and a wire
no one watched us brown-bag it
dropping the gloves was what we used to do

we used to die doing it
it’s what we do again
now in real-time red

 

NEXT >

 

 

 

 

 

%d bloggers like this: