Running On Empty
New empty casita mirroring
empty room on Elgin street
long ago…Newton, Mass. …
this time the bare bulbs have
class and wattage electric space
just ’cause the mind’s aware there…
I thought space was a threat…
now it’s all space and the white walls
mirroring luminosity echoing on empty…
I guess we’re all running on fumes…
moiré or less…where we always find
ourselves anyway every time in.
Then, you can only hope the plan works.
“What plan?”
I hear echoing down time.
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