I’m stuck.
there are my shoes under the bed.
look at them.
cold, dead with laces.
no chance.
the sadness roars, leaps at the walls.
one of my cats stares at something unseen.
I smile, nod.
nothing.
nothing new.
I rip the cellophane off my cigar.
nothing happens.
all of civilization collapses like a mighty wave.
a moth tentatively enters the room.
the music stops.
-CB
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