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Salt as Quaint: Walked the Pavements


I’ve been counting

The drips that sounds

The impact of rainy days

Since this morning

Sitting by my doorsteps

And the door dies open

So that the morning radio

Can keep the background music

To 6 a.m. in check

And I’m getting off this step

That I’ve been sitting on

Since last night

With a bottle full of vodka

(opened but sober)

And a cigarette pack of 24

(opened but nothing smelling like the back of a beer-raped bar)

Hence the absent smell

Of tar on this jacket

Wet and spilled on by last night

‘Cause I’ve been feeling this way

For a quaint quite sometime


I was never able to walk that mile

Or prove any piece

Of being able to start walking

‘Cause these knees keep breaking down

And these arms stand so weak

And I’m watching the sky

Commit arsenal on itself

To bring about today

And I’m not in the mood

For the sun to paint my skin gold

Because it’s been painting me

A pale grey

Since last night

So why stop,

And I beg with homeless manners

To leave this paint on me

Which leaves me a little more


And I’m coughing

Due to weather this time


I’m leaving the bottle and cigarettes

By the sun-chased pavements

Just getting up

To go back inside

And to sit on the first

Few steps on the staircase

And burden my head on the rails

To think about how

Just one sip of alcohol

Can make me sleep off yesterday

And how just one cigarette

Can make me blow smoke

To your face and give me

An excuse for the forecast

Of my eyes to rain

Down salt

On days that slave me

To break sober


And make me put a cigarette

Between these chapped lips

And let it burn my feelings

To taste like yesterday

Because coal and wood


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