[2017] Paroled

after an untold  
number of years    
having done his time    
released from a cold cell    
reeking with sweat, farts, grime    
and other assorted stenches    
from three hundred Spartans strong    
ready to leap forth with spears    
from trenches dug in deep    
along the outskirts of this    
underworld kingdom come    
to latent complacency    
walks in with a madder than
Max in the Thunderdome    
expression and proceeds
to kick me square in the gut    
and off my feet    
proclaiming, Brother,    
THIS IS POETRY!