Life Without Plural

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I ain’t bright
nor particularly peculiar
sans Saturday night

I drink alone
but for communion
and Monday backwash

I don’t echo
recon redemption
preach or petition

I half-ass barter
psyche for syllable
all the while aware
the life sentence

I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.

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