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To Be An Aluminum Can

I am encased in a noisy glue
a sanctuary of grey thoughts
aftertastes of bland fantasies
and sublime underestimates.

A starry spectrum of inhibitions
doldroms and mechanical decisions
packaged repetitions clothed in opinion
poorly lit, canned in tin and fading away.

Until the sun woke me
here in this little place
I didn’t know the extent of this dream
coming into my own empty skull.

Gushed out, spent, depleted
featured in my own program
a play of three acts in three seconds
but forgotten, thrown away.

This newly discovered dimension will not leave me alone
so I stare at that thing
that big monstrous knowing
and fall across the driveway

dried saliva and dread.

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