Out Of The Range Of Promise

i'm weaving in and out of your thoughts
as the crow in the tree chokes on the black light
and spits out a dot against the blue

and as you go through the day, with an inspired
two step and a broken heel,
i'm in your thoughts again,

That fucker,
i knew he'd run, the minute
i asked him to move in.

Fuck you Mike!
Poet, my ass!
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