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Too god damned much

CRH

Smoking weed in the backyard.

The child fast asleep now,

I hope,

too tired to advocate further

for the things she wants.

“But I want it,” she falls back on,

frequently when we deny her.

“That’s not the point,” I implore.


But now I’m sitting alone in the backyard.

My teeth ache,

a cluster it feels like,

on the left side of my mouth,

where two cavities had been diagnosed.

I never tell my body “no”

to the sweets and boozes I want.

And now I’m rotting.


(June 3, 2023)

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