needles fall to the brown grass

the sirens fill
the silence
a symphony of wails
hanging on the still air
as i contemplate
getting dressed
unwilling to as
the chaos screams
just outside

the coffee tastes
tinged with dejection
self inflicted
or enforced by
the powers that be

the neighbor watches
unable to see anything
a row of dead cactii
on his porch
serving to prove
no matter how
hearty the plant
neglect will surely
kill everything
it is certain

i wish i had slept
taken a break
from a mind filled
with wailing sirens
and a row of dead cactii
feeling prickly
dessicated in the dark


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