Sharp

a picture of the poem, written on a typewriter.

He curses the lightbulbs
using a sharp tongue
Frustrated that each one dances
through life and unlife.
In the office, one out.
Replaced.
In the kitchen, another.
Replaced.
Front porch, three go out.
Replaced.
Frustrated, he pulls too hard
and sharp shards shatter.
Replaced.

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