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I arch my shoulders to my cheeks
And press my weight upon my feet
Agress my chest unto my knees
This shape I take; anxiety
 Dec 2023 Natalie N Johnson
JDK
I read amateur poetry,
while drinking cheap port
and listening to Chopin
(accidentally; Youtube algorithm took a strange turn,)
but still, I fancy myself classy.

Some schlub in sweatpants on a Friday night, drinking alone,
critiquing a long dead artform with wild scrutiny,
thinking I know better just because I've been here a thousand times before.

Just know, if I say anything that offends you,
that this is where I'm coming from.
And I hope that will incentivize you to let it go ignored.
But really though, if you're throwing in a bunch of fancy words that nobody actually uses anymore, I will think that you're trying too hard.
Fiery
Furies,
Lapping
At the base
Of the door.

Whisper
Cloyingly sweet,
"Let me in..."

OH!!
If only
To rapture.
Dude pulls up
In a Honey Bucket truck

I want to say,
"That's a ****** job."

But,
He's heard it all before
I'm sure.
I doubt
material wealth
means anything
in the afterlife
on the off chance
that I'm wrong
bury me
with my books
and my plastic owl.
Didn't expect to find
One of mine as the daily
Thank you
for the hearts and views.
Upon the roof, my *** did sit,
And gaped down at the lava pit.
It spit and split, and threw a fit.
So I dropped a couple antacid.
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