my soul
has jetted from star
to star
before
more than once
it has ascended
into
a kind of strip mall
heaven
wallowed in orgiastic pleasure
then fallen on hard times
lifted itself beyond
the tombstone-colored clouds
then landed on
an old slurpee cup
in
the parking lot
of an abandoned 7-11.
my soul
has jetted from
to star
before
this isn't my
first rodeo.
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