trashcan whine

volume breaks apart the rhythm
i come in like william carlos williams
or bukowski turning into a skid
on a good day
more like doggerel on the dog-end days

slow poetic diaries of nothing
exploding slowly into something
what kind of voice emerges?
something lyrical? something quizzical?

you like to think yourself important
an unrecognised talent
bedroom genius of the slow decline
but perhaps its just trashcan wine

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