the world is top heavy
over and over
breakfast and sausage lines on the white tabletop
the sticky smell of pancakes
rubber burns in the parking lot
a thickly turning light is green above the wavering of wires
the switch of the wheel beneath my feet
and the world is heavy
careening
down this early morning
this late afternoon
adrift in alcoholic haze
the way I answered an email written last year
as though it was yesterday
and the future still looms but it's
heavily
here
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