I can see the flushed pink
across the bay as I
wait for the glow, focused
as I envision an orange rim
cresting over white pillows
flanked by a Pirate’s
Black Pearl.
And as my
mind lusts for its
buried treasure
hidden
in the east.
Place blame on the fool, for the cost of fuel, for global warmth, zealous haze, the access gap and angst-filled days, housing costs, taint...
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