There’s wet paint everywhere
and most things are hanging loose
I turned a folding hand into
a full house; jacks over twos
I have hurt myself on every
little thing I’ve tried to do
now I return to Dylan demos
Nineteen sixty two to sixty four
Tomorrow is a long time, and
only if my true love is waiting
the road keeps snaking on, so
guess I’ll snake on home to you
An endless yellow field stands
where a sunflower once bloomed
I catch its seeds for empty pockets
so they may bloom where I fall too
May wet moss reign and bloom
where minds runs out of juice
I chuck my chips into the river
to collect interest for untruths
- Afton Light, 2022
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