Every Day,
A Century

The Sinecure

All in pomade, all in the grainy sweetness of a late morning's pear, all in the next hour's opiates, all in negotiations finalized over fish with rice, all in the spectrum of integers caged in columns, all in dash-dot and perforations, all in the glide of wireless propagations, all in spectacles redly ecstatic, all in a dry kiss perfumed with a caipirinha, all in taffeta and imported pigskin, all in flimsy wagers that won't open any reprieve to the enlisted man, all in defeat's luxury appointments, all in anecdotes curdled into aphorisms, all is unified in an encompassed life.

Joe Milazzo


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