The sincerest of greetings
from an aerated chauvinist
comes after nightmares
of standard transmissions
guns without bullets
botching escape.
The fortunate wake with their teeth
still intact.
It's Shangri-La versus Valhalla.
All day long
stuck in your rhythm
with better places to be.
Good god
I see women from my father's hometown
and wonder why he ever left.
Springing to your assumption
is the part begged to play.
Mistaken for a misogynist
with only a weakness for women.
New wine fills the skin.
A pack of year-old cigarettes
medicates this latest retreat
after meeting the same bird
with a different wounded wing.
It's not the best Sunday for breathing.
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