so here I am without a beer in
sight
really, nowhere to be
seen
like when I’m sweeping,
the warehouse
under bright lights with other
bright people
centuries away from anything and everything
like everyone else
the flow of time going nowhere
currently invisible
like my invisible beer
with
that same lack of stream
and there’s not a dry eye in the house
and so, it flows
continually
Reblogged this on Outdoor Adventures and commented:
Steven is back at it with the poetry. Check it out!
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