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& Above the soft roar of the screen
Seeping in from the adjacent room
Feelings from the past begin to exhume
As he concedes to the codeine.
The blankets wrapped around him, old and abused,
grow exhausted from perpetual use

Sifting through worn pictures
Of summers somewhere south.
Static lulls him to sleep,
the furnace refuses to speak.

& Above the soft roar of the screen
Seeping in from the adjacent room
Red digits by the bed awaken amidst the gloom
& he slowly comes to in their gleam
Uninspired, to begin his long day
that give the blankets a much needed break

The factory becomes his home.
Grays in the sky through high windows,
The gears, the belts, the billows
Of smoke & the Warden. They’re all he knows.
Off at six, to catch the 6:09.
He always makes it home in time
To catch all the same old repeats,
And the repeat the same damn night.
A vicarious living though…

The same old worn pictures
Of summers further south.
Static lulling him to sleep,
the furnace refusing to speak.