This is the way the world ends:
rain, pouring down,
sitting in a McDonald’s
reading the New Yorker
eating chicken nuggets
and wondering
why you didn’t call
your parents
and wish them
“Happy Anniversary.”
This is the way the world ends:
rain, pouring down,
sitting in a McDonald’s
reading the New Yorker
eating chicken nuggets
and wondering
why you didn’t call
your parents
and wish them
“Happy Anniversary.”
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