i can feel the eye liner running
down my face
for the white lights
streaming by like
comets who would round the sun
they are cars and trucks and whatever else
and they'll round
the world
if their itinerary dictates
i'm perched on
the freeway overpass
i'm a roman centurion
and i can feel
jupiters eye
in the pit of my stomach
the updraft from the
traffic ever flowing
we will all return to minerals
one day
but i will return to nothing
and halloween
will be
a word
upon the rosetta stone
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