bleached night
i've been on streetsthat smell like
regurgitated garbage,
beer, and cigarettes
and i've been in houses
that smell like bleach
and frankly,
i can't tell the difference anymore
the lonely railing
casts a solemn shadow
onto the orange walls
of the vacant apartment building
sometimes, even on clear nights,
the stars are invisible -
thank you, city lights,
for the dimming of the natural lights
night be blighted
and lights be darkened
(thank you, humanity,
for blighting nature)
sometimes, bleach gives me a headache
city lights: blight of natural light -
give me a shack in a broken village,
connections with humans in a foreign tongue
in a foreign land
12/27/15
Poetry by Thomas Perdue
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Written on 2015-12-30 at 06:27
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