Tuesday, May 02, 2017

Afternoon Nap Soliloquy

I am tired of the modest life,
the checkered career,
living in this
maladaptive skin.
I sit like the king
in my counting house and
count the errors
of my ways, like
heaven will.
I feel
the document in preparation.
I can already see
the face of the judge.
Why were you
brought here?
she will say.


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