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Sensory Disposition

A Poem

Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash

Ailments all stuck
out of the ground again
Lifted legs notwithstanding
the hurt
or it just didn’t fucking end
The atheist
down the street
thinks he found a rhythm
The drugs
go flying off the shelves
into a matrix
of desire doing its best
to synchronize with frustration
Seen in that perpetually
dying light
the stars the pinpricks the aches
ailments & all their precious categories
stuck like glue
to the…



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J.D. Harms

J.D. Harms

Former hairstylist, perpetual philosophy student, swallowed by poetry, writing, ideas