the sun set,
our eyes conceiving
the scene
[before us]
they came
and sat in
the same exact
spot and
whispered phrases
that could
mean nothing or
mean something,
but today we
know some form
of the truth,
we would never
forget
and today
I forgot
to dream
in the face
of the truths
the world has
been hiding,
stock-piled
in the backs of
abandoned station wagons,
behind the
bartender,
through that
cracked window
we sat
and gazed
at the hydrants
and the poppies
that had bloomed
in the cracks
of pavement,
and somehow
we thought
the same thing.
http://snoodesigns.deviantart.com/art/Trash-Mobile-87272820
