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March 4, 2020

 

the scale says “one-hundred-ninety-two”

but I dont believe it

I feel much more like

three-million-eight-hundred-sixty-seven-thousand-five-hundred-twelve

cant be the heavy thoughts Ive been thinking all day

those made their escape to paper hours ago

must be my digestion acting up again

or that last cracker

 


Scale
A poem by Peter Rhebergen

Copyright 2020

Each New Day A Miracle
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