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grandpa

smoke going back and forth with the wind.
playing tug o' war with the screen door.
memories drawn then drowned out.
the same inkwell my grandfather
dipped his snuff in with gathered hearts.
the smell of muster handed down to me.

a waking thought

hanging on the cusp of sanity
by the trinkets of my soul, pointless.
lost abandonment found in reason.
cue the deranged thoughts unexpected.
floating in a puddle of blood
on my grandfather's oak wood table.
fables devour tales of truth angrily
in search of carbon dioxide plight.
engaged to life leaving peace asunder.
broken promises left unattended
never mend, never mind me.

robbing the craters

sometimes,
the moon,
it looks esculent.
acquired taste.
can't control the urge.