A strand of days

Its today and soon tomorrow

relics of what was yesterday

weeks adorned with sweetness

and footing at no expense,

is it here now that the moments lost

where I sat in languished solitude

cracks along the border fray

and eyes a gesture of too afraid,

things go on in and, and and

reaching for the punch

but little to no one can be done

for generations are out to lunch,

I stir the food for better taste

but the palette is far from clean

the day to day of impiety

my mind a threaded stream,

so surf along my salty dog

along the shredded ways

where dope means all is good

and life is just another day.

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