One Dollar Short

Pin me.

Bleed; because death
Transcribes
All measure of faithlessness.

My ex became annulled,
She came
To Florence and Arabia.

So soothing seances
Grabbed and throttled
My recollection of her.

Dismembered.

The church has cost
Hundreds
Of incinerated souls
To cherish
The indecency and popular pornographic
Substrata.

Oven mitts;
Migrant workers mixing drinks past ten o’clock.

How about incarceration?

Should we let it flow,
Outwards
On a sea
Of influenza
And cheap beer?

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