confliction

empty deserted visions

came upon some ordinary sin.

i never set out to sell my soul,

but i guess i did.

between the sheets

or somewhere between the lines of mediocrity;

the words always had double meaning.

but you see,

12th street was swimming in its own flood.

and the backed up traffic

splashed a homerush gold rush.

i used to wake up

for your attention;

but now i fall asleep

in an extinction;

damn it!

strange slumber

awakes in empty deserted visions;

coming up on some ordinary sin.

i never set out to sell my soul,

but now these bridges just burn themselves.

c.  2016  bgw

 

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