Crushed flower confessions fall like
Confetti thrown in wild celebrations
While the nameless march
In the head down parade  
And the ticker tape streamers
Roll down their face.
In obscure corners where
No one goes
There is a beggar
Who doesn't want to be known
Asking ardently for nothing
With a toilet paper tube
In his mouth
He calls a lugubrious dirge
Into existence
And if you listen
It becomes your life
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