One Of Those Days

Badges of hope
litter floor
where old clothes
piles of papers
and moldy food
are its company.
Broken pens
and crumpled papers
stick out of trash baskets
fluttering in draft
from ajar window
where wisps of fog
seep into room.
Torn envelopes
stick to table
giving notice past due bills
and bits of soul rejected.
Scratch at beard
drink old tepid coffee
reheated to often
look for another address.

by David Howerton

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