Last month
Lonely like a crack in the windshield
of a dirty van.
Lonely like a noodle
sticking to the pan.
Lonely like a newspaper
blowing in the breeze.
Lonely like that odd, stray heartbeat
signaling disease.
...and knocks on the box from the kid with two different socks from both sides of the tracks who fell through the cracks but developed a taste for sushi and oysters and herbs and dreams and Manhattans with Beam and picked up a full head of steam.
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