Oh, Corrina,
You mute bitch
of the world. Leave me alone.

The singer wants, and I
want with him, but don’t
know what
it is I want, exactly.

From the window,
I watch the landscape change
the deformed tumors beneath
the blankets of soft snow.

In the eerie, iridescent
night – a kind you could
just set sparks to –
everything glows, and still the
singer croons your name

empty speakers.

Now playing: Bob Dylan – Corrina, Corrina
via FoxyTunes


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