Night Writer
1 min readJul 17, 2017

The Subaru Out Back

I died
That's where I always end up
I'm happy to call home home
The silent lights on her black dress

We humans bend so naturally
Sometimes not
The hair on the head grows
And then one day it stops

The brown cage, we dance to control
That long song is never long enough
Our song

We try to dress
We try to fuck
We try putting on the put-on
And we are destined to relapse always.

Night Writer

| nightly poems for all hours of the day | inspired, in part, by ~ The Beatles ~ Albert Camus ~ Luis Bunuel | a nightcap of poetic randomness |