terrible timothy may
hot street smear window
bicycle with a spiked chain
six omens on a string
he’s the tooth fairy
warehouses of grim memory
bales of hay stacked up by the door
never can tell
the real grin of a happy man
extra cash in the bag
sweet tellin’s and a scream or two
why am i here
timothy may has total control
the stick vibrates in his hand
the magical eye has it centered
the dock shudders with a low bump
someone’s home
someone’s in the air
someone’s diving
this day goes down
so hard.

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