god how I miss drugs
and strippers
and long philosophical talks
about God and Nietzsche
that took us passed the dawn
into an early morning coffee shop
for egg and potato breakfasts
and continuous chatter about the grinding
iron and diamond cogs in the heavenly
machinery of the deep cosmic skies
while early workmen came in
still shaking sleep from their eyes
all of us cogs in that divine dynamo
while a deeper silence cradled us all
Content (c) 2008-2016 Philip Milito.
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