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The Perfect Morning

Written on a Train

By Chick OrlandoPublished 3 years ago 1 min read

I reach with aching arms,

Speak with pounding head,

Stare blankly with blurry eyes and twist into life as it first happened

The room spins, attached to the world that spins

Tripping me into delirium, tripping me into a trip that I don't like

I see flashbacks of a waking sleep, where I sit in bed clutching a phone

A child swings her legs on a bus stop seat [stop it]

A man eats prawn cocktail crisps [stop it]

I feel nails in my head come loose and rattle

They align themselves, spelling words that read [DONT DO THIS AGAIN] and [CUNT]

But I know I will, and smile through stiff cheeks, knowing fast living will always lead me here

To the land history books forget, the world where sorcery and music flickers on and off inside each persons head and stomach

The thousand words in one

surreal poetry

About the Creator

Chick Orlando

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