It's about the letter
making something worse
or something better,

laughter turn to slaughter
to
daughter
one letter more
to
slaughters
daughters.

It sorts nothing
neither boys nor men
ink to pen then
when then when?

I am dabbling in some artistry
where wizardry
holds fast to passing stars
strangers arriving in faster cars
and I'm slowing down.

In critical mode
on overload
at an unlit road
the lamps explode
and
I go out.