thinking about a drawing
of a group of objects
it becomes a print
not direct expression
and the objects sit on a shelf
the idea is separateness
somehow degraded
misshapen
easy to do, misshaping
a memory
flies in
opens like a hand of
open misere
lays out orange
a communist dad
ranting about pop music
exploiting the youth
and we the youth
at the time
just wanting to listen
to music
be together
get wrapt in the groove
aware of the horrible truth
but longing
for that space
for that space
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