poetry

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They talk over me, even in my dreams, ’til I’m nearly bursting at the seams.

Nothing survives but the grind / half a century of struggle
coalescing into a point / moment after moment after moment.

So I was in pain. Wore the crown
In a kingdom of coprolalia.

Did anyone? Did anyone?
Did ever?
Did anywhere?

There once was a fellow named Vincent
Who got tired of women that hints it

Soft fingers danced with threads, step by step, sorrowful butterfly

ankle to ankle with dangling dead bodies/
it’s time/it’s place/in office

two cardinals. wrapped in red & roped in ring. with sticks for the beating.

Everybody liked his smile
Everybody liked his jokes

One after another, the rejections arrive.