I watch, bemused, as sun ingests good sense
And textured layers, flack like old worn paint.
A dry landscape,
warm to the touch; god that’s gotta hurt.

On the surface I see me, reflected back in lose shapes,
Drink, smoke, and a face like, “for god sake”
Fuck me man, this has gotta be dumb
I’ve gotta say it: put some factor 50 on son.
Interesting rhyming couplet at the end

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