~rogbeer's corner where ~rogbeer stashes some stuff

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A vending machine, late at night

ash-grey taste of canned coffee

washing loneliness down my throat

but it sits in my stomach

and refuses to leave

Hello? Is somebody out there?

message in a bottle,

footprints by the sea-sand-shore

Help, help, I’m drowning

drowning in a can of brown-sweet coffee

I think,

I’ll have another can