All the lonely, interesting places I’ve been
That I never intended to visit. Weird and lonely,
Nights full of stars, days full of empty markets.
There’s plenty of room for humans, outside
Of human rules, outside of other humans,
But we can’t survive outside, even if a few
Of us make lives of pretending to live alone.
Here’s a skeleton key hanging from the outer wall
Of a shuttered store. Words crowd the thoughts
In towns as spacious as ancestors’ bones.
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