Another Night Done

Weaving home through crowds—
another night done in this
bagsticker July
below clouds like torn, piss-stained
sheets under the turnt up moon

About John MacKenzie

I'll mumble for ya. Poetry, plus most things quantifiable: science, neuroscience, memory, epistemology, baseball. And so on.
This entry was posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, John MacKenzie, Language, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Summer, Tanka, The Moon, The Sky and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Mumble back at me

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