#weighty
“this plea with delectable imagery to wet the senses, its weighty poignancy so charmingly lying upon the soul like a lover”
Jenny Gordon
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Black Friday
Nov. 2025
~~~
wrestling with
serious stuff,
the loss of dear friends, poets, and avoiding
exploration of my emotional loss,
pen asides, pointing at me with ***** guilty inky blue stained stares,
then
Miss Jenny above, remarks,
startles and invokes the provocation and my fired-up fingers
dance keyboard pas-de-deux, angel and devil hands alternating
and
releases some of the pain that is preventing
my wetting of the senses and like a good shove
from on top of the Empire State Building,
the words weighty filling my pockets
are dragging me to the ***** city sidewalks bellowing below,
where
my souls is cruising for bejeweled
curses
and dried out senses
are suddenly soaking wetted agonizing,
weighing on my soul,
good men gone,
cancer both, and why am I
chosen to stick around to write epitaphs and sad bad poems
that barely recede the grieving \\\
///these men, these poets,
with whom I conversed,
had conversations on-going since 2013,
trading stories, rough drafts, accolades,
quips, laments, whoa-worries and
stories of sons,
no one to mano a mano~no mas~no more,
when this idiotic being realizes,
he is feeling sorry for himself,
his loss,
this weighted poignancy
lays upon his souls
like a chunk of him done come and gone,
and the knowing that my farewell poem
yet remains in my brain,
decomposing
in preparation
for its own
verification
animation
vivification
so that
I may be released
to start over, again…
Nov 28, 2025
Nov 28, 2025 at 1:40 PM UTC