Detritus

stand over the fallen detritus of
spring and summer, for moments
glorious and
rich, flying lightly, and think

we are not there.
we are not down.

Bald Mans are thick to move and heavy with
knowing, stuck to the earth and slowing
and my distinction being that
I am oblivious and
licking, quick to
roll and shout and
shit and
sing



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