The Average Lifespan of a Paroxysm

puddle

I made sure to compare

Apples to apples, oranges to oranges

Before burning down the packing house.

The flames danced like heathens

 

In the throes of godless confidences.

Eric said “When you hear music, after it’s over,

It’s gone, in the air, you can never capture it again”

So I kept a rhythm to the rain

 

By beating on an old coffee tin.

When then the Sirens cut in I thanked

My lucky stars for two left feet

And hugged the walls

 

Like an acrophobic sniper.

Somewhere out there

Someone with two right feet

Was dancing the night away.

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