In turquoise pools warmed
by sun and piss, I splashed
and churned, looking
to escape monotony
and scripted hopeless
life that led to nowhere.
Wasn’t that the place
to be when not at
Foster’s Freeze
or Taco Hell.
No escape hatch,
no questions asked.
Or answered.
But still, it was
a simple life
if I ignored my mind
that melted like
the ice cream
in the waxy cup.
published in Prolific Pulse
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