Monika Beal

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poem - amoeba

See this SoundCloud audio in the original post

In stylish fedora, layered
with soot and city grime
he stands listening.
Among a sea of CDs
the live band plays as
his pen captures fleeting
thoughts - inspirations?
Tilting his head, he hides
broken, taped glasses
and a bruised black eye.

~ mb, May 2017