Tuesday, January 22, 2013

poem of the day 01.22.13

we make it so ugly

on evenings buses
that smell like rotten eggs
from the breath of people
shouting into cell phones
i stare outside another window smear
at christmas lights and a manger
still up in mid-january
watch as we pass a row of dead pine trees
that look like a horizontal forest
mingling with the garbage-strewn street
and wonder why
we always have to make it so ugly
for each other.


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