the carpet, its shitty
the curtains, they're pretty
the cabinets they're shaped
in an obtuse way
this table, it's flat
the mice as they chat
the TV stares at me
with its nuclear rays
the coffee, so warm
the fire, unborn
the whiskey it heals
when she makes me cry
the ceiling so tall
my cell phone; no calls
the smell of today
as it passes me by
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