The fist flowers like
armagedon,
and i have no ******* clue
what that even means,
but
Jesus Christ,
I'm going for it.
This swing is coming for him
and i hope that
*******
doesn't duck,
or i'm probably gonna
fall
flat
on my face
and be met by
the speckles of rock
in the asphalt.
Mid-air is like
Mid-sentence
and i'm just waiting
for some punctuation to
drop
like her high-heeled shoe
as she slides out of something more comfortable
and isn't thinking about
the poor sap in front of me.