we broke those bottles
late on a Saturday night
sliding into morning
leaning half out the
window shouting
we own this place—
this town, this house,
this window— and we
will break whatever we
goddammed feel like
and we don’t give a shit
that you’ve got to get up
for church tomorrow,
lady. this is our town.
at dawn we drove out, broken
glass rent to our fading youth
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