ships and wrecks

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January 29, 2015 by Wayne.

we’re done with pillaging.

fridays are the hardest,
fleshed down and ready to go,
we work by the hour,
paid in hymns to the
immortal wind and
abundant living,
at night
we walk the quay
and head from pop-ups
to pop-ups,
the night at least is cold,
people shrinking away with the light, news-
paper crinkling on fresh grass,
usually, at least

on fridays,
they don’t leave,
not before the cold, at least,
but tomorrow will be a quiet morning,
an empty street,
11am alarms in apartments

we, sun-sheep of the transplanted trees,
salute you

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