deepundergroundpoetry.com

coming to grips

 
 
 

it's that morning you
wake up and realize
that the past sixty-three
years has been nothing
more than a Felini movie
(at the least), or a long,
curious suicide note  
(at its worst).
 
you look at the clock  
laughing
 
roll over and go back
to sleep
Written by buddhakitty
Published
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