homeless

fell from cushioned sheets
to a bed of cement
pillow too hard to fluff
my room now smells of trash
urine is the new disinfectant
the maid’s been wearing the same ugly dress
the butler has soiled himself
yet again
dinner’s now being served
at your nearest trash bin

Published by Shon Lomax

Wordsmith, spitter of verse,vowel breaker, screenwriter always, reluctant poet most of the time. The list deserves a list. A delicious vagabond currently piping out hot dreams from a beach with no sand. Pocketing as many stories as my britches will allow. Shadow dancing with long-armed monkeys hoarding all of the bananas. Daydream believer. Just don't call me Davey Jones.

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