Warrens spill
My brothers and I have had another drink together and
if tomorrow is coming
it is coming to quickly and with the ominous rush of
skidding trains and a great
heavy front of air is pushing up against my face and
filling my nostril with
pretension... the scent of poetry
unable to write real webbing whorls of unready, tired,
too young
I am not old enough and may never be
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