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Spaghetti knots

home

you will want to mention the joke

to the barmaids at the counter where

people you grew up with have slobbered

onto the worn wood made from trees nearby

when the forest was cut down

and the school was moved

and the joke was first said

on a day very much like today

with the sun still up

sky still unaware

rose colouring everything

though it doesn’t feel as warm

as then when then was then

which is now

you say to the barmaid

who mishears you

juggles three beers

one of which spills on a friend of a friend

who you once was told had swallowed an entire medicine cabinet

to find little health

and who doesn’t notice the long pull of that grin

that you can bring

if just given the chance to say the joke

once more

 

she puts the tanks down

you open your wallet

she smiles

though not for long

 

it is empty

containing only sunshine

and a memory offered

later when others are forgot

in the wedged space of life

which is life

living life

that is not still but pushing onwards

to that silent stuck death

found in a punchline that says

a still life is still a life

 

until

slipping on the slobber

you are kicked out

by the stony shadow of friends

and the image of who

they thought you became

 

the sun is no where

but you are

you are

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About kacperniburski

I am searching for something in between the letters.

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