"weall" poems
Try this, it's {like}kid baseball, no grownups,
and only mental no hardware,
eyes glazed, as we accept
- we saw him, baseballman,
- corner of Santa Monica and Western
he played this same game
but we are
all grown ups, for the session, and we
volunteered, but we
do not
at the moment recall, reconnect, reconcile
one
mind, o
, my god. wjatdewdotame? tamed me?
blamed me? shamed me, got'amyou,
made me
the father of others who know I never knew,
but they knew, why
her and all her kids knew, eden was mine,
the I traded that
for her,
without ever
really, with out, out most ever, knowing
why I never noticed, she knew just
what to do, and I never learned,
wham- thankyewma'm
why did the guy never know, really war is wrong,
and she knew, yet she set herself as prize.
Who knew,
they all knew, able proved n'able was a name
for those who found it funny to hurt with fire
and smoke and savory fatted beast feast fired
desires to know, more, moremore, barren womb
more rave ravening black wings now mean
mean and I mean it, I win or I die, I try
umph.
and a more is a matter of opinion,
some times,
it feels staged, inserted for drama, as if drama,
is a god, or a guardian spirit,
per haps
may haps, we creak, and stretch our spine n mine
pops, gas, escapes, internal pressure adjusts,
a sigh,
you may be reading
for pleasure, less likely you came this far for
the upaginthewall-weall-alley ****** at the core,
as you think, mmhm
in your heart you are,
re-
swing low, sweet chariot, I got no place to go.
And this ain't hell.
And I oughta know.
So, merry message
of the annual effort
to enjoy
on purpose
conciliation apprizals as to
what counts
gift or thought behind it?
Dec 24, 2021
Dec 24, 2021 at 7:08 PM UTC