the other side of the fence
something must be wrong
there are too many tabs open
so I shut them down
each & every one
all day long I’ve felt a bit off
so I take the backroads home
flying by & honking at this billy goat
his front hooves pressing down
on barbed-wire fence
something tells me he’s lacking
just a little patience
and next time I see him
he’ll be flagging me down
bleating in animated desperation
where might his sad woman be
september two thousand twenty
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