solitary wood...

all I can do is sit here and
stare at this table.
you're sleeping and it's
four minutes past midnight.
it might as well be
four minutes past never.
my eyes feel like they're
full of sand, the beer is gone
and the cigarettes taste
like cardboard.
two pencils, a set of car keys
and a pair of sunglasses
are my company.
I could:
write a story;
take a ride;
pretend I'm blind.


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