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badwords
Poems
Sep 2023
Mausoleum
Entombed in these scripts
Are countless lists
A chain of 'wants'
Self-inflicted torture daunts
And the mind grows colder
Reiteration. Older, bolder.
Perhaps not wiser
Affection? A miser.
Grey matter glistens, clean
Wrinkle-less, pure.
Elect the means
Analytics astir
You are already dead
Bought, sold and traded
Ukulele is the dread
A modicum so faded
There's a twang of a string
It brings great reckoning
And down below
We observe the show
And know we know;
'How to think"
Written by
badwords
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P A R Á D E I S O S
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Rob Rutledge
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