She bums far and wide.
She collects emotions like
fridge magnets. She sees
pink elephants and pumps up
on shimmering angel dust.

He sits on the bench
in the municipal park,
reads Sputnik Sweetheart
and sweeps away withered thoughts
from yellowed speechless pages.

She forgets own name
and learns by heart addresses
of nearby hellholes.
She wastes her forces and soles
On the Road to barathrum.

He hopes against hope
in the municipal park
at the very edge.
He warms her favorite bench.
He keeps her favorite book.


© All rights reserved 2015

52 thoughts on “Headlanded

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