Been Buried

a poem by Alex Shapiro

two trash bags swelling out

of our alleys, overwhelming each other 

to an impasse, to a chorus

of get the fuck out

of the road to nuzzle for

leverage for to accumulating relentlessly

and the hot

rubbing (and bumpers ripping between 

us) burst us open, our plastic 

casing conceding to the chaos composure

suppresses, spraying 

we remains onto streets already reeking 

of and glossed

in rotting apple cores and an iPhone 5 and torn

jeans and a soiled scone and tissue and meats too

untrustworthy to reheat (we have family on these streets.

we are rain, falling with the faith

our gravity will eventually

lead us to unity), cluttering fluttering 

bodies to be squeegeed between 

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