hiding behind marshmallow clouds
descending into madness at midnight
I pull pieces of bread from my pockets
feeding them to my soul
in the morning I take tylenol
and pour raw milk onto a
bowl of rice krispies
listening to vague childhood memories
in the middle of the afternoon the full
moon hides behind marshmallow clouds
my conscience reminding me
(as I fall into a self-induced slumber)
how everything becomes edible in the end
november two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
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