Caged Reckless

Regan wakes in the azure/he tends to reckon the hour/by the shadow cast/on yonder wall./Regan, rags himself,/drinks from his rusty scupper/ Glum, he turns to inspect his sores./Bygones be bygones,/something inside him stirs./Airs his clothes on cement blocks,/lurches for his blue ticket/he weaves his serenity at sunrise/eyes clear by first light./A moment without compulsion,/cellophane blue, cigarette smoke wafts/in concord with summer drinks./They’re cooled by chunks of dry ice/he stole from a grocery./felt so bad about/ the silver outline of Katherine’s hand/in the dark at the movies

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