The best neighborhood poem
The outskirts of her skirt
was the best neighborhood to be at
after her shift ended
she smelled like all those flowers
you are too lazy to look up proper names for
all those poppy-somethings
and dandy-nots
covered in droplets of dew
until we both got evicted
boxes in our hands
with mixed possessions
Tolstoy novels and juggling clubs
carnival prizes and postcards
she never wrote.
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