PUNK POETRY: Dear Father by Ivan de Monbrison

Yesterday, it rained a lot.
The meaning of things often escapes me. 
I left my thoughts on the table before going to bed.
And then I had bad dreams.
The rain cooled the air, and the wind is coming 
in by the window.
There was rain falling in the apartment during the night. 
Next week it will be very hot again I think. 
I was sick last week, I am taking some medicine, 
I'm feeling a little better. 
I hope you're okay? I mean, I guess where you are, 
no one will bother you anymore.


--Ivan de Monbrison

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