A reading of this poem is here: https://youtu.be/pAIgogKxcNA?list=PLBxuQsDqWVXmIytZbwojqP6VwFcC5xeZ
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He died that night. His chin a mesh of wet, broken asphalt, blood and glistening white flesh.
What did you want?
A quirky dialogue, a dose of fiction and science,
a ******* poem
Jesus! I said it glistened, didn’t I?
Damply reflecting his solitary and meaningless life that he had built up to be something more
something wonderfully significant
This must be a pathetic assault on the indignity of the world
It’s lack of acceptance for
My total loneliness
among the pattering drops and the dosed lights
hazing and incomprehensible
forted, feigning, but there
A physical barrier that pretends to be.
That’s kind of like the guy. How convenient! Are you following?
The lights were the last thing he probably saw.
but there in the peaceful death did he gasp one last word?
A cliche. Is that better?
An improvement upon self-referring, concept refraining, phrase
like a sustaining note struck by a hammer
struck by a white key
struck by bone and flesh
a resonation resigning to a precious exit, honoring the one thing he valued?
Are we getting somewhere now? Did the alliterative foiled words help to unwrap the meaning of this poor ***** last breath?
No.
But I recall a gurgle followed by a splurch of blood and his eyes so fiercely clenched
cowardly denying the wet
moment as
he died that night
And I meant to leave the ****** apostrophe out
This is art
@Macbigicekeys
