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Greg McVerry

The floors as scuffed as
our checkered pasts
the linoleum worn from soles of
shuffling souls
Curled cracked lips close across a coffee cup
a housepainter, overalls stained with evidence of
getting by
a waitress with dreams of theater
an author toiling away
the eggs come by
the yolk splits
real life spills out in the conversation
as regulars shuffle by
silently picking up unspoken orders
heading into the world


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