Sunday, 6 May 2012


the orbital presage of a whistling witch
goads me to medicate a peace of distraction
instead I choose to detonate
wake every word I read & write
force the inquisition of some fevered worth
or at least free the world of my selfish weight
rage unleashed that 28 days walking cant assuage
that fist shattered clown on the royal blue wall
laughed once too often, not any more, his
splintered face erased in a freefall of stucco tears
and for what it’s worth 
I do feel better

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