newspapers like bats over an empty parking lot overlooking a storm

i read the
headlines of
the newspaper
as it blows past
me in the
howling gales

black and white
small print
the end of times
as the polar winds
shift and collide

a silver diffusion
through a smothering
of pale gray nothing
lends an air of
sovereign abandonment
to the morning swill

manic damnations
sing song fallacies
flit and fight
through a pollution
of poetic dissonance
assuring soft destruction

lingering at the brink
of another tumultuous
dive into the waves
sitting with my toes
in the comforting swirl
of apocalyptic whimsy

using weaponized aches
to pierce the veil
where pedantic meandering
renders heartthistle
into ink stained missives
to signal the storm

the print is faded
yet her smile
sketched in cursive
repels the affluence
of dismal depression in
a shower of sheer perfection

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