Hot Dog

I look out of the window At the icicles, the hot dog vendor and the one beggar Amassing coins. I look at the winter-colors All a ghostly white, remembering the vibrant summer time In Sri Lanka, my country of birth. The roof appears to be sinking all of a sudden, The walls come closer, asphyxiating…

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A Poem in Heartwood Literary Journal

A poem of mine, that was accepted months ago. Its on NY. There is an error in spelling though (ate should be are). This journal is based in the state of West Virginia. http://www.heartwoodlitmag.com/spaceman-in-new-york

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