These days the hours
count themselves
as summer heat
boils itself
into a furnace room fit.

The lonely scribbles
find themselves
On a face resembling my own
imprinted like newspaper
a configuration of headlines and subplots.

I can't count
how many ways you hate me,
but I can try.

08/25/2014

Posted on 08/25/2014
Copyright © 2025 Jared Fladeland