Here's a poem from years ago. Be serious!
The sharp thwack of a cupboard door,
like a meat cleaver striking a cutting board.
Crystal-specked hamburger meat
waiting out the permafrost.
The creak of a medicine cabinet and
rattling pills pulled through a quick slit of light.
Elliott Smith breathing from the stereo
recycling the dazzling doldrums.
See the millions of pixels on TV
smeared like neon on wet concrete.
Like a lit cigarette, my last pencil
shrinks all the way down to the nub.
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