S O  P   H     R     O      N

The last 4.5 days never happened. Let the record show.
Between illness and divide, there is a wordless revery.
Etched in foreheads above the skyline, skyscrapers kid
the KKK and negatives emerge from fantastic colors and
pores clogged with nothing but injustice. Inches of
rain, sweat and other fluids pile up in drips touching
every last plumber's heart. From the worst job to the
best, the least and most ghastly dad jabs kidding into
the muck of nothing much happening when all of one
shapeless stream is left to make sense of. Basketball
and 90s sitcoms cry on the shoulders of this pain...

DRINKING IN THE DRIPS


                                                                           ... and how

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