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these desperate times

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I sit

staring blankly at the woman

counting her cash

and think

what any of this can possibly

speak to these desperate times


It's cold here

but no colder than 

anywhere else

I have known before


I look at her

black skirt red halter

gristly but lovely too

She doesn't see me

and will never see me


I pay my due

and go home

sleeping the dark sleep

of my own unnerving 

inconsequence



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