| 
 
 
 
VIII.
  
 
Everything clings to its existence.  
 
I awake from a carousel feverdream.  
The centripetal force of my own smoker's circle 
has kept me pressed against the seat.  
Between the laughter is a guardrail.  
I couldn't be more ready for my incident 
at owl creek bridge.
 
 
  
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