Poetry · Writing

everyday is taco tuesday

there is nothing wrong with this city

i know where the best tacos are no committee

where i can get a drink that turns buildings into legos

house jumpin’ past two makin’ waves leavin’ graves leggo

but it needs a makeover;

a painter with a knife

can’t breathe in these fumes

it’ll lead me to my tomb-

lease is coming to an end

the potted plant stretchin’ its legs an ascend

not how i intended

it’ll pay dividend

come back one day

buy that taco place

turn it into a mansion

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