this foul lonely cold front
would not be cheered
not even by the mini-van on North Road
equipped with spinners
no amount of green lights
could ease the hateful feelings
I wanted the flowers to unbloom
retreat back to the black earth
I wanted the trees to give up
to be barren and empty
i wanted gold never to be seen
wanted it to be forgotten
wanted time to reverse
stop--forward--back again
I wanted it to be a turntable
I wanted another beer
most of all
I wanted to go back
pay my credit card bill on time.
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