The Laughing Fires

The laughing fires
And the trampled boxes,

Herculean lives
Built on stolen memoirs,

Ripe neglect
And a rustling breeze,

Freshly discarded
Pride,

The widowed clichés
Of addiction,

Fixations painted
On walls in the rain,

Tricks spent
In the gravel,

Puddles meeting
In shadows,

The veins of this city
Pulsing in flickers,

Bickering glooms
Spilling out.

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