It’s about controlling time,
and not -
blowing down Buffalo Yard Rd.,
tap tap
of the mind,
beeches hustling
in the long summer’s wind -
there’s no Art -
only rot -
only making a living
like nutsedge
reproduces
when you pull it up -
the long road
is a good one.
Livin’ fast
ain’t easy, and nothin’s
free. That’s why
there ought to be
human entitlements
that secularize society
against greed; against the dogmas
presented
by race and class -
vis a vis
poverty -
and the news of the day.
Words becoming meaningless
like summer ending,
just a turn and a glance
down that long dark hallway
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