‘dander’   collect the corners. truth is i can’t stand you. clotting spaces you think i don’t look but there you are. hoarder of retreats i set aside. drawling footfall drawn further than the extraction from drunks. destroy my senses while living in a deficiency all your own. what a life to have entered into. what a shame to drain the expectancy from my sad sack of bones. i signed the dotted lines of my own dna but never the f****d extrapolations from your cells. there’s more than a broom-full to be swept from the course of things but i can only reach so far back along this karmic timeline much the way i can’t retrieve common sense from within your head.    dander: skin flakes in an animal’s fur or hair * #barflypoet #josephapinto © Joseph A. Pinto * Poetry served raw and unedited from the moment crafted * 'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon. * www.etsy.com/shop/JosephPinto --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/joseph-pinto3/support