Nicotine Suite (No.2)

should've been bed back way likely
missive to the to do list. limned
fridge buzz and aero funk my
hat on table with all the books.
some kinda animal noises outside
I'm close to manual myself, thanks
to small numbers - days on the wing.
an ache where that seven column
convention mobs the lot surrounding
my embattled shed in the absolute
end of a day well-pronged. pull
once again, a hiss - counting against
that I am - stupidly, dim, like
a walk sign plus personal music
system passing screaming wreckage
unaware. a softer hiss, more wheeze
and the night has an odd number
of ears to grind.

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