Charles Hayes

Trade-in Through shoes with cardboard soles that sport a clownish grin, my blackened toes flash like rotten teeth. Crows, spooked from the pizza box atop the trash, hurl their curses from the wires on high, to the concrete canyons of misty light. Chalk colored piles with dark swirls,, like rippled custard, dot the box, and I wonder at the absence…

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