cliche

of you, being
my sun
shine is a cliche
, i know,
but it’s o’ so un
believably true

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goanna

i saw a goanna and a trail of snake.
camphor lined my senses differently.
the sun literally beat me but was hidden by the very deepest blue sky that i ever did see in my ever ever.

trumpet

o, the beacon’s rise!
over and kissing my
sand and my surf,
you herald for all eyes
to hear with trumpets and cheer,
it’s a new day!
it’s a new day!
it’s a new day!

well sun, you can suck my Dick
Tracy, you fuckin’ woke me up!
peeking through the fuckin’ blinds,
when all i wanted to do was snore
away the dread of having to rise
to another pitiful day
of my life.

now stick your trumpet up your ass.