Uncertainty like vanilla lacquer
pasting the plate
Lick it up son
Gag on the coat
So that approaching any decision
Feels forced to assuage time’s demand
That action occur
Where any amongst the smorgasbord is
an equal toast
Proclaiming a milky nonsense
identity
Years stacking like rotations of the
garbage can rolled to the curb
Filled, dumped, returned, repeat
The refuse of food, feces, and drained
receptacles
Glob the pipes funneling resources
Attempting to diagnosis
Where to go from here
Wanting an option to distinguish
itself
As a viable offering
Then if there were even one to do so
The direction to claim would
solidify
At least as much as the
deteriorating papers
Washed in the hurricane ink smears
A man is left to hold a slew of
drenched dust into powdered sludge
Lambasting his heart into a callow
silence
He is unprepared to accept
Paralyzed believing he knows what he
wants
But doubts it exists and if it does
will ever intersect his path
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