The Wheel and the Well
It touches the dry faces of the
corporate ditch-diggers as
they march their deadly cadence
across filthy pavement wonderlands.
It touches the shuddering addicts,
burrowed into non-consciousness in their
rat-hole universities of the mindless arts.
It touches me as I watch my writing hand grow worn and callused
the red embers of youth's caustic, indignant rage giving purchase to the
ashen madness of the man's inspiration, my ink-bleeding magic wand trailing
bizarre legacies like breadcrumbs.
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