a praise in 3 verses

we’re all stumps, waiting to be pumped
with love leavened with dead sea salt
waiting for applause as we flotsam, as we float some
heavy lidded eyes and a lead heavy head
eager to slump, sink
to the ground and be a beautiful coral sea
grind stone
ready for regrets to shine
like the sea we once shone
shimmered all the time

we are all stumps, amputees without legs
lying on the sidewalk, the streets for legs
a dirty folded shirt propping a lead heavy head
heavy closed lids for the sun to float on
the rest of us by our sides, just kicks waiting for a walk
a wake, to rise us awake
then strap on our struts and run away
to hide
invisible invisible invisible

we are all stumps
already cut down, waiting
to be cut down, by love, cars and work
words and then life

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