As I was meandering, to and fro, juxtaposing myself between the here and now.

As I found myself on city streets, who did I meet


It was me, and we were obscene; know what I mean.

Obstreperous to say the least,

Like fizzy fountains on folded yeast.

Like phone calls made to state police.

Did you tell me l, did you lead?

Couldn’t have, I am that steed.

When nothing matters, and walls they bleed.

And paragraphs can’t pray, in deed,

When spills the darkness brightest seed.

Behold, there I am, as once we were.

Some truth, here it goes like I am Sam.


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