it took a few years
to shed the pretense
tho the bones are empty
now
i wouldn’t blame you
if you walked that long mile
out the back door
forgot
the culture as a weapon
or a savior
when all else fails
crows always
fly the most direct route
geese always
know the way home
the broken bottles
hold colors of the rainbow
tho the tops
are a sharp cut
& my lips too weak
to hold the gin
--- e b bortz
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