You can try to fight the dead man
When a heart no longer breathes
You can try to plant your dandelions
In sheltered beds
With stolen seeds
You can fornicate forevers
You can smoke sacred cigars
Spark to pet one donkey
Clever
Or beat the ass for being smart
For each eyeball that you opened
For each hope that you conceived
For every dress you left unbuttoned
For every pickle crunched
Each storm believed
Some people just can’t help
Being
Under their own feeble judge
The arbiter from hell
Looks you back from a mirror
Dripping
With paint from your own tired work
Give it a rest and let your
Spite
Turn inward where it belongs
Eating
Devouring the only part
The only deserving
Worms on their hook
I have not begun
And you finished because
The road was too steep
And your lazy feet left you
Hatred not mine to give or keep
Are you not blessed?
Because damned if I couldn’t
But I’m not too impressed
And damned if I won’t
Because so much rivers of non
Direction
Anger for whom
But one’s own
Reflection
While spanks the barking melody
Because good enough is never
never what it seems….
to a child
nicely different, Eileen – good to see