Found and Lost

detghetto

Between every space there is a word
making the space possible

Owing it’s entire being
to that space

There’s poetry somewhere
in the cracks of the dull and divine ghetto
hiding and peeking around corners
afraid of being dredged to the light

We’ll find ourselves
here amongst the weeds
hunched over and coughing up drugs
digging around for the words

It’s our volunteer work
our community service
our reflex
our addiction no doubt
all rolled up into one juicy handwritten spliff

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