Dross 2/2
When you hit me
the sparks burned holes
in the snow
I could write a book of sand
and still not decipher
half of this pebble
The holes are drops of piss
are cigarette through thin
cotton blanket on the grass
and we are at a picnic on it
And I understand less
then nothing
and I drop from great height
I splash on pavement
Grains against wind
flapping against ticks of clock
Here are measurements :
120th St.
6:45
$100
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