The jeans are wearing
right off the legs
of this society
the shirt is thin
the back is getting burned
right through the threads that remain
as the sun climbs to its midday thrown
the feet are finding there place
now that the calluses are finally setting in
this is already the end
what follows is new
what follows may
be
or may kill
or may recreate
beautiful brown hair
gone gray
softness turned crisp
I hate the sun now
so dry this month
I know it just does its thing
and this is in me and the ground surrounding
but it is what I see and feel the strongest
so back I direct
what I have
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