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The Enemy Incubates

They could be anywhere
Greased on my bus fare. Any Tom Dick or Jack and Solitaire 
On every bit of bittie bit, on any drop of there.

They're everywhere in ambush
On every pull you push. Each panicked ceramic royal flush 
Pirates hide, ride crazy-eyed, with itch-sticky triggers to crush.

And anything I breathe
Down the red throat of my sleeve. The miasma mere clean teeth can't cleave 
Goes in out in out freaked out out, so every grin and weep's knot-weaved
And my besiegement
Unrelieved.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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