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Jan 2014
I was not
knee-deep in a bog
swinging a blunt cutlass.

I was not
naked and kneeling
before a jungle trellis.

I was not
youthful when young
(never felt summer).

I was not
alive when I lived,
being entombed

between antitheses.
I was not
happy, though this

was happenstance.
I was not
not awaiting a soundless fury

to consume my essence,
when that essence was what
I was not.
CH Gorrie
Written by
CH Gorrie  San Diego, California
(San Diego, California)   
584
   Barton D Smock and victoria
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