Pan-Am Ashtray 369

My meds weave a trail

back to Pickle Back Hill

where I’m auctioning gifts

from Murphy Brown.

Why Charlie’s little sister

I don’t know. But that’s not

the point right now. How much for

this Pan-Am ashtray, Item 369?

Why Candace, 

Queen of the Ehiopinians,

I don’t know. But my dreams have gotten

so strange and habitual,

that I fear we’re all vulnerable 

to their odd tectonics. Though none 

that would certainly

improve the world.

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