Fairy Dust

April 5, 2014
A flask of lies wading
in the liquid thrill of summer light

The cap is melting and snaking
across the glittering silver of concrete

When I was six, I asked mom
if God sprinkled fairy dust on the streets

To make them clean and pretty
for the homeless people who sleep

Sleeping with their faces pressed
drunkenly to the hot ground

A ratty sleeping bag is sufficient
for a king's pillow on this night

Night is burning through dreams
but never does it chill ice on the feet

Of pedestrians walking barefoot
home from waves of euphoria

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