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I've been kind of down and uninspired, even the Best Day didn't do what it was intended to do and bring me to life from this sleep.  So I thought I'd do something I've not done in a long, long time and start forcing myself to write something every day that is a poem.  It's not my favorite, but I think this'll be like blowing dust off the cartridge.

8/30

Say fade with the sense of Summer, early on the last day of August
or nearly, and mean to suggest brigther days of profound resolution
or glory

But thinking back I recal dusty rooms, dark against heat & sweat.
sweating walls & you'd lay your bare arm or bare back against them, sleepless
hoping for some inner cool seeping up through the building. 
Like water from an unstruck stone

No great happenings or grave ones but sleeplessnes and the long daylight
filled too far up with hours billed & seeming wasted. 
Brick baked and seeming half-alive. 

No memories yet of the hottest yet summer
but to say that I was tired throughout & say now fade
or fading - not like color at the end of a scene but like a toothache
or a dream upon waking. 

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kingtycoon

March 2017

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