Flint Heels and Gasoline Streets
Grab the dark side by the waist.
Plant a kiss on its dead black lips.
Sow the light into the darkest soil.
Toss the halo and the horn.
Into the fiery pond of mind.
When truth makes love to lie.
Set goals-come up just shy.
Breathe the smoke of defeat, the death of hope.
Tap dance, flint-heeled on gasoline streets.
Savor the dew drops of brief victory.
Then collapse in one big heap.
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