Informal Disaster

bold lies
of life intersected
a pretty impression, worn out and connected

tall tales
they crumble when eaten
their taste an astringent, unlikely to sweeten

bald truth
your yearning’s not normal
a city disaster no more, just informal

lame duck
adrift in the crosshairs
continues to swim, anywhere, unawares

L.M. 4:25 p.m., January 20th, 2015.

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