howitzer

eight o'clock and
coffee a bit more
bitter than i'd
like
to admit to you
just what happens
when i see the morning
papers getting tossed
into the quarter bins and
you know that's when
the day really starts
and i think
(sometimes)
if it's not spent
writing letters to people i love
then what's the point
of going on this way?

2004-12-23 | 2:47 p.m.
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