left the funeral
feeling disturbed. was wounded that day. my closes friend—dripping into his
palms. life got sick, fiber isn’t universal, I was eager that night. a ransom
for my soul, a casket for my pride, buried in quicksand—I tossed an apricot.
under an impulse, sat a whisper, I had to call motives into question.
attraction is
addiction. never met one like Mardi Gras. never believed like an angel.
bluegrass roots.
over a mansion—his soul baptized—more to my people!
wanted to soothe
aches—a whit intoxicated—conversing with his silhouette. on the fringe of
abandonment, so lonely aside a wave, pitching rocks to seas. upon a redbird as
it soars, I came to a thought, I was born a phoenix. it’s not the Ponderosa,
galloping to make right, some pains are too crisp.
unanimous
frustration—wings feeling clipped, it’s strange to bounce back.
self-affliction, no one on point, it just happened. the government of the
ghettoes, the politics of the slums, the voiceprint of a mother. we all wept.
geometric
genetics, no kids back when, he left an emptiness.
a wildflower, in
his desert, we never understand silence; provoke dialogue, flickering like
flame, most are concerned about social behaviors.
I turned the knob.
I looked at his mother. I spoke to pure remorse.
