Ya joint

Ya joint 
— embers of hell draw closer with every breath
black ashes, piling and
crumbling away.
duomo pinnacles to touch the horizon /
tower of babel, trying to reach the heights;

limestone washes. 

Crumble and fall
— a breath collects ashes
and, like grey dust, spreads them afar;

ashes collect
in the eyes of eddies.
Ashes, seemingly clear
through panes 
of ashtray glass:

“unhinge huck,
pass ya joint”


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