Untitled – Gregory W. Bitz

Pretending to be myself
sitting between two blue candles
watching the wind destroy
the city
filling boxes with
the old letters
listening
to a foreign radio station
taking flash pictures in the dim room
blasting shadows.
The city’s in bloom
little yellow squares glow and go off.
There’s a lot of hate in
those homes
there’s a lot of
confusion.
Open all the windows
connect the world with air.

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