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Sunday, December 1, 2024

YYUh. wya?

 own it baby. ownnnnnn it. 

(to start swiffer-time mopping 
so Isaac doesn't come prodding for 
neat room-mate era 
(lol)ling)



I think the goal here - and hear me out - is to 

( this should be sung in a song )

stop your father from falling 
on crumbling path walking 
from too-far pretty place 
on I-drive-now- routing 
 across 580 bridge stalling 
to stop all male mocking 
 peaceful thanksgiving  
short-lived family watching 

to back across-bridge

look smug in a truck, dislodging 
on now-bay-bridge era crawling
like traffic and this funny time sprawling 
san Andreas fault edging to falling 
on cusp-of-winter cocking
to prove evolving and then stopping 

on bridges  
planes cars boats and people
revolving, revealing 
smalltime rhythming
and all the time stalling. 





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