January 27, 2018

Giuseppe rolls slowly on his wheel.
His toenails clack clack clack against the metal,
And the pads of his feet are raw and blistering. 
Fur mats in oily clumps beneath his watery red eyes,
And his nose does not smell. 
The wheel continues to squeak,
And Giuseppe continues to cry.
His throat is lined in rust; the sorry words formed
In the gap between his teeth and lips
Drop, and
Scuttle away.
No one is the wiser!
Giuseppe clacks on his wheel,
The cold silence interrupted only by his hiccuping sobs.
No one listens!
Guiseppe smiles.
He is all alone.

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