That Time I Cared About a Material Possession.

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I blushed towards an empty beer can
A twinkle sundering under a logo,
Dead as a light switch smiling
Directing current to a useless fixture.

But the police refused to aid,
Even after three panicked calls
And rumors of a suspected corpse.

Some silhouettes seemed to belong in the rain,
Like the taxi driver who smiled through torrents of polka dots
Speckled on his window,
Or the troupe of young faces
That sprinted down the railroad tracks
Blazing hallelujah
Like revolutionaries celebrating a successful coup.
-Screams of laughter.
-Placating death.
And aluminum beer cans
Emptied of their purpose.

I found myself inside a hollow capacity
Provided with the opportunities
Of here & now. I sipped gutter water
To feel full,
Picked fall leaves from between my teeth
And spit them towards the sewers.

When the corpse spoke,
He alerted me that death was near.
But his gun powder smelled like roses,
And his desire to kill appeared beautiful & serene,
So I questioned,
“I thought this moment was meant to be ugly?”
To which beauty replied,
“I didn’t say I was finished.”

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