Plain white shoes

For 10 dollars,

Dirtied by ashes

From the fire pit

To fit all our


And empty


An unbuttoned

Shirt in need of

Buttons of


To put in back

Together, holes

In pant legs,

Tears from

Jet lag, red

Eye flights

All nights have

Been sabbatical

And radical

And stinginess

Is my righteousness

A penny more

To donate to

The rate it costs

To hide blankets

And clothes


It is ordinary

For those around

Me to live for

The temporary

It is my story

That I poke

Eternity and

Pull it down

To my dirty

Shoes and


Shirts and scars

From dirt fields

And knives that

Pierce the rags I

Wear, it isn’t

Better here, the

Place of the


Let all these

Things burn,

Let us yearn

For the eternal

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