Cul-de-sac

I am cut out of a day dream
an unkempt, unswept trailer
exhaling it’s last breath
before being dragged to the junk yard
I loved you so
why don’t you reciprocate
all the artisans laughed at us
as we had our flags on mail boxes up
but the postman’s always late
parked on the corner
digesting, chewing lunch
reclining
in a cul-de-sac

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