run for the roaches

Since this stay I’ve come to feel at home in this infested hotel room where, as the only jockey brave enough, me aboard Lady Luck, I win the roses in the daily run for the roaches.

Life’s a human race where Truth is lost by blinders. I win what is real.

These roaches are real. Really thick as thoroughbreds, and just as fast. And Lady Luck would survive a nuclear blast. So, bugler, toot that horn. Be real. I got Lady Luck, and she’s no unicorn.



Published by Other People's Flowers, 2019

 
Written by Joe Bisicchia on 31/03/19
© 2019 Joe Bisicchia

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life, lost, home, people, flowers

 
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Christopher Russon 14/05/19

 

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