Drugs in Mom’s House (day 1145)

A passive sales strategy
Sitting lonely on my mother’s couch
Wriggling into uncertainty
I watch through a dusty glass
Tripping all the alarms
Tipping the Chancellor off
To an undercover sedated tragedy
And Earl wandering.
Smokey-Joe pan-handling
And I’m a lonely gravity
As a slow song plays
Like apple cider vinegar
Going straight to my heart.

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