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  • He walked about the neighborhood.
    Another nightly stroll in peace
    with a candy skull in one hand,
    a splintered cane in the other.

    The cane shed ghosts of regret
    as it paced on the glittering asphalt.
    The handle, an almost perfect
    sphere, blemished by a hard candy
    slant, evidenced a favored side.

    Ornate with neon and black dye,
    the skull missed its grain crystal jaw,
    as it missed its gummied tongue,
    as it missed its jellied eyes
    as it missed its cotton-candied
    Pink Matter.

    He smiled as he passed his neighbors.
    They smiled upon him, not in fear,
    Nor in welcome, nor through tears.
    Inevitability smiled.

    His windowless home awaited,
    as did his toothy wife and pets.
    Bats squeaked, owls hooted, spiders cleaned.
    The corner house laid still, save for
    gold and things you can't take with you.

    He moved past the threshold,
    threw back his head,
    swallowed the stars,
    and slept.
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