When midnight
is the hour struck,
we thank the sun
and moon for luck
that has lifted
us with long knives
up into a most
foreign sky.
I keep repeating
this whole thing,
chasing girls too impressive,
by far, for me,
but if you only want
what you deserve
there is really nothing
to preserve.
I set another
burning flame,
and to salted sheets
I say a name.
I’m as American
as murder or apple pie:
I do a lot of things
and never wonder why.
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