Nothing
No recovery now,
never enough time
to lengthen legs.
Must have some
emotion left, and
Home stretches
far, far from home,
stringing out.
Addicted to all
that attention, but
with indifference.
Every year, more
will form to break
down, kill self.
Hangers off wait
to slip in bylines
into eulogy.
Make it around
one more year to
muted applause.
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