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Stripped of self
The connection to others
Is the touch of god.

David eats old hamburgers the day after,
Still drunk and happy,
He looks to me and says,
“All I can taste is cold with pickles.”

Tommy lives to skate and fight
And live he does,
In a bruised and battered
Blur of every night.

Kirk barbecues at 4 a.m. in dark.
He eats nothing but chicken.
He cranks the sound and self to twelve
And dances alone with his cats.

Michael works the nights at a hospital,
Both nurse and addict
He tells the ill the pain will stop,
But it won’t.

And stripped of self
The connection to others
Is the touch of god.

Mike Brady 2010/17


Ricky Nigro said…

See if there is a map you can add to the blog that you can drop pins on showing where you are!

Keep it up, I'm reading daily

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