Today I was writing

And on the wall I wrote with the smudging ink
on the smooth white paint ‘every day I write’
Signed and dated and the summer crawling
Through the window I burned this is the first
Time I’ve worked in two weeks, let me fucking
Work and she sassed me out and I said okay
Let’s go for a walk, I need to go out anyway
So a walk became a drink became a bottle of rose
On the beach became two hours perhaps
Became shopping became queues and insults
Became more shopping and only one family
Member allowed in at a time I sat on a cooling
Street corner wandering if the block behind me
Would throw something at my head, the people
There seem so and anyway I reflect on my
Failed day pre-ordained by the act of promising
Now I write at 5:27am and after writing Palm
Springs Rest
The night is today
The day is missing

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