Tunnel Vision

Light at the end of a tunnel I thought would be black.
This is the tip of a knife blade reflecting the moon.
You get a gold star and a lecture from the principal.
Wet eyes and red cheeks.
Give me my phone number.
The more you try to make sense
The more things stay the same.
Lick my wounds and make me a meal.
Shave my dinner.

We
Can’t
Have
That.

Turn on the news
Stare blankly at the screen.

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