At 3 A.M. there is possibility like
What happens from wash room,
To poet who returns from a piss.

A moon is caught up in balcony
Over wooden stool, with a mom
Who got it made in seaside city.

The moon connects us all in sea
And/or in balcony , it is languid
And/or is in yesterday’s shadow.

At three A.M. as you go to a piss
Moon is still shining about stool
Or in a city when mom was real.

At 3 A.M. heart attack seems real
After you come back from a piss
And fear is a possibility, and/or.

Moon is real as a mom once was
And/or fiction hung in balcony
Where a memory of mom hangs,

With a low-slung moon on stool
When a poet returns from a piss
To a poem about the possibility.

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