Upon reading the man of the year’s blast to kindness,
the idiot’s version of the photograph,
I grasp at the importance of things.
The pages ,the prayers, the interest in the infomercial…
reluctantly seeking the inconclusive nature of oddballs.
We banter, we cry as the crowd cheers on.
Silently we await the choices and the muse.
Silently we wait, as if they will ever come.
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