"time upon a once"

 

they keep hammering on that damn garage

outside my broken window

even though it's Sunday morning

and my head is hammering itself

but the cat doesn't care

she keeps sleeping

as long as I don't move too much

and the wind blows the clouds

over sharp edged glass

anytime it wants

 

they've been building that damn garage

for twenty-seven years

which is longer than I've been trying

to write a poem

but not necessarily less glorious

 

sometimes I like my broken window

I feel like I'm camping in Alaska

and the wind echoes frozen mountains

but then they start hammering on that damn garage

and the sirens sing all Sunday morning

and the cat stays in bed

as long as I don't move too much

 

 

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