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Yawning Brahmins

The Joggers


We all got paid
but we were paid is such different ways
a sheaf of arrows through our cold blood
these robber barons
with little hands that never meet
we all ask with what we have
some speak in climate, we move in weather that’s moved in
a little candor, all that ever does you in
the ancient motions that turn a reflex vulgar

do tell, do tell, the trials you passed,
do tell, this pass, is coming at last
do tell, us all, we’re gonna last long

a yawning brahmin, an ashtray-white canteen
silent damage, to watch the ones you’ll never see
down the street, we rattle and wheeze
just starving vagrants, we stumble on immaculate streets
rattle and weave, strain our eyes if we please
but only dumb luck turns up spare keys

do tell, us all, we’re gonna have a ball
do tell, this pass, is coming, at last
do tell, us all, we gonna last long
do tell, us all, the trials you lost
do tell, us all, we need to walk it off

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