I’ve never been the problem
But then again, never
had the solution,
To solve the misery
that ponders us all
I’ve always been
another question
In a long line of
rhetoric,
an exclamation point
in the middle of a hypothesis.
There’ve been times I
thought I had the answers
But the easier things are,
The harsher scream the
fouls
Watching the sudden
twist of a turbine’s gale,
Trysting nautically,
amidst a fresh gust of carbonic air,
Fleeting, permissive,
derision, dismissing—
A damage plan for the
self-defeatist, a manifesto for a never-ender—Sword of promise in disguise, a
fury with a roving eye—Assemble NOW the gallery of rogues!
Too often we
assimilate with those ravenous chills, elucidating amidst the shiver of a
broken dream— a few moments truncated, by grammar, both bent and unrelieved…
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