Locals

The untold story/ is that everyone is boring/ and quitting your job/ at the Laundromat/ is the biggest thing/ you’ve ever done

You yawn like your soul is bored/ like the plastic silver frames of glasses/ make you blind

Hidden behind tube socks/ and facial hair like a barren field/ Content with the saliva/ under your nails/ It makes them glisten/ like sparks in an ocean

McDonalds on the corner/ smells sticking like duct tape/ residue

Roomates or lovers/ ignorant to sex as sex/ It’s not like moving/ because your ass fell asleep/ move just to move/ move like you mean it/ move to the flicker of florescent lights

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