smoke rings rising while trapped inside a bar

21 Mar

a new slew of ologies and theories hits the rail today.
hair is poofed up with chemicals,
a heart slips further from a mind,
a red fence is staked,
so is a row of bushes.
the old tree doesn’t care.
its branches are lighthearted,
playing ping pong like laurel and hardy;
subconscious dream words expressed as bean stalks
angling towards the sky.

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