a perfect day for a funeral procession

overcast
with a hint
of dismal
the mist forms
refracting
headlights
little diamonds
overlaid between
a sleepy fool
and the dour
gray effusion
draped heavily
over disinterested
concrete spires

the trees strung
with white lights
nearly inseparable
from the clinging
condensation unworthy
of sending the
wipers screeching
over concaved glass
wicker reindeer
in sodden repose
scream festive in
an otherwise dreary
state of discombobulation

i am as listless
as the leaves blowing
lazily from the bed
of the truck sputtering
plumes of black into
the billowing clouds
a human carcinogen
drifting between shimmering
catastrophes like mirages
marking future sites
for traumatic disasters
with cartoon hearts
and trail of confused
sparrows whistling of
couldashouldawouldabeen
as the gods piss a mist
to drown the world in gray

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