Secret Pop

Dec 10, 2002

Time to flip the sign. We're closed.

My work day is ending. Another will begin shortly. I am not free to rest. Or to consider. Or to revisit. My brain is cold with reluctance. My senses are quieted by disuse. My eyes hurt. And I am a servant to all of it.

The double digits of December already? Why does that make me so sad?

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