The newsies scattered,
hawking the Daily Rigmarole
to Monday commuters
who never complained
that all the names changed
but the headlines stayed the same.
69/365
The newsies scattered,
hawking the Daily Rigmarole
to Monday commuters
who never complained
that all the names changed
but the headlines stayed the same.
69/365
A version of this poem first appeared on Bluesky. Whispered into the acoustic sensors of the sleeping dreaming android, it prompted the electric sheep to generate one more tomorrow…