Cigar Aficionado
San Francisco
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Cartoon Haze

In the heat of stench, the smell of
sleeping, is humidity unwashed.
Basking incautious, a small rip
In jeans unraveled flies, are leaving
and comming, not paying any rent.
Rolling over creates a bottle neck
traffic slows, green ford drives off.
Humanity once again, slips a hood
over a face, that snuggles and dies.
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