perhaps you’d have let them
lead the way,
but the needle scratched.
the music stuck
and they became something less
than pioneers
with nothing to offer
besides a shit shot
with some poison arrows
that used to lie
scattered like flaming confetti
at your feet.
1 comment:
Thank you for the comment. I read this and I see a basement party when the sun comes up and it's time to go home. I see the obscure body passed out on the couch. I see the wreckage of the easy hours on the floor.
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