Here come our reasonable men, our politicians, our blindness.
Here comes the feeble diagnosis and in our feckless hesitation,
our hatred, our predators, our glee comes out to play.
When we danced that night
in the pulsing blue smoke –
I dreamt of endless road trip summers
one dirty bar to the next –
a never-ending cruise on the knife edge
between child and adulthood –
of waking up dirty with grass in my hair
and smiling at you through the haze
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