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The Narrow Confines of Existence


by Damion Hamilton



It seems like that is all I really know

The narrow confines of my existence

The sun rises and falls somewhere,

And all living things, move, work struggle and fight

Carrying a bucket of water, while the sun

Bangs the day's rhythm on my  arms


There's a war going on, all the time


 The cars move along the interstate carrying strangers


You watch cars along the interstate long enough,

And you will wonder about all the different 
People in them 


All the people I can not possible know

Im in the narrow confines of my being, carry
A bucket from a dehumidifier.


As the kids riot in London--the radio tells me this


 The television screens, and computers tell me
About celebrities and the stock market


The US credit rating has been downgraded, like my
Personal one

It will be burning and humid again--100 degrees


Sometimes I feel somewhat calm, when the world
Is telling me to worry and panic


Chicago, Miami and Budapest are out there


But, I don't want these places


Maybe a pitcher of beer for my nerves,
And a baseball game

Pujolos  wants 300 million, and he 
Continues to hit them out the park

I coulda chose a dozens of bars to go
To, yet I chose the one im at


But ill sit there and sometimes think I 
Shoulda gone some were else


And listened to the voice in my head

In the narrow confines of my existence

Leaving the bar, after waiting for the
Alcohol buzz to get lighter


Taking the Interstate 70 and hoping that

The cops don't fuck wit me about

Expired tags on my car

Or think that I'm high or buzzed (I'm not)


Then getting home



Escaping the daily war of the nerves



Exhausted, bent, hopeless, hopeful

And tired



Falling asleep in my clothes,

Without TV or dinner 



In the narrow confines of my existence


























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