The Force
this the cusp
of my forever year
and all I ever
knew of you is here -
one white piece
of sliding prose
typed and loose
you were uncrafted
and I exposed
you grafted me onto
something else
not yours bade me
go grow how to
live in a world of
self-serve being a
misbegotten child of
one's own making
paint it black darling
etch it deep be
brief and withdrawing
angular being all
obtuse and underwhelming
expect hurt expect
bad days such
perverted force like
spots has to surface
at some point some
time your
lies will smother you
poor careless waif with
no good food - go
starve it will get
worse yet
previous poem
next poem