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Nolan Bucsis
Poems
Jul 1
Ordog
The venom
Of
Scorpion,
Pierces through
My flesh
And,
Stings.
I am compelled
To
Dance in a mad
Scramble,
As the poison.
Takes hold.
My ego is about
To die.
Tripping on some divine
Archetype,
Of change-
Transformation,
Tinged with the death
Of self.
Written by
Nolan Bucsis
41/M/Somewhere in Canada
(41/M/Somewhere in Canada)
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Jimmy silker
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