He never wanted to be a tourist
viewing sites from the bottom
of a calidascoped glass
his view distorted by the liquid
it held, as he passed.

but what we want and what we get
aren’t always stocking stuffers
on cold morning mantels
or a full round magnetic moon
ready to provide beams shaped like lips.
so with a walk and a shiver
he abandons his nights work
this lover of humanity with arms empty
but memories full
He stumbles off the cliff of unconsciousness
to join his brothers and sisters
in the abyss.

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