Squat, a morning poem



I squat behind a side-street generator,


A shit to disrupt the morning run.

What is this?

Headlights, white skinned vegan cyclists,


Somewhere in this city

A man spends his last

Dollar on a lottery ticket.

Only a few will stop

To see the purple sky.




The sky has no bias.

by KMM

About Lightning Heart

Nomad. Poet. Philosopher. Teacher. View all posts by Lightning Heart

2 responses to “Squat, a morning poem

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