The last poem in a month of poems
Good morning, sleepy, heavy body.
Good night, anxious, meditating mind.
Toes spread wide in this usual writing space.
Go write outside on the deck of a skyscraper.
Tingling sources of energy,
Body parts inflamed by sensitivity.
Runny nose. Tight chest. Mouth coughing.
Dry lips. Slack cheeks. Eyes watering.
Belly full and wide. Clear breath.
Reaching up, hungering, and yearning,
Ready to play Xbox and numb the shit out of everything.
Did you see that coming?
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