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Paintings In The Smoke and Burnt Rubber

Sorry that our world has been destroyed and
what is left is burnt rubber like cigarette ash.

Sorry that the park where we used to stroll has been metamorphosed
there is no plush Kentucky bluegrass, just glowing embers

Sorry that there are no more museums and
You will have to find paintings in the smoke

Sorry that the diner on the corner of Green and Hyacinth has finally fallen and
There are no strawberry milkshakes left to sip

Sorry that dogs are running wild in the streets and
We can’t save every one of the motherless kittens

I’m sorry that I extinguished the light in your eyes and
That you avoid me when we cross paths

I’m so sorry.
So, so sorry.




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