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by phil gennuso, click for full size

by phil gennuso, click for full size

humming all day, humming all night,
whenever i pass by, you are always humming.
there is no respite,
there are no spaces in your sound
where i can hide,
no places for me to enter,
and listen carefully.

there is just the bright blue paint,
splattered, sporadically,
the red splashes, the dull greens,
and the slow creeping of rust,
as our times roll on by.

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