deepundergroundpoetry.com

Flying In The Grind


Ending each attempted mending
of straw
sticks in wicker baskets
prick from staggered
angles
where I left each
un-uniformed
egg;
I treasured the dears,
spheres in mottled mars
like idiosyncratic
irregular
jewls...
When they were
naught
but scarred in flaws

The splinters
struck out
at ajar
Slitting their
shitty
(they were never pretty)
shells

-Flaws-


Like the freckles
bridging my nose
in tawny tattered stars

-Flaws-

As the whisps
of a lisp
lacing lacking kisses
& imperfect blesses

-Flaws-

Anxious angst
unscreened
unscrewed cinematic comic
showings
When capillaries above pink-diamond
cheekbones blow
wide open
my clamoring for
congeniality

-Flaws-

Gangling limbs
like someone's stumbled
designs
with dreadfully discordant extensions
a rusty torso
& awful arm-like
(not artful)
additions

-Flaws-

I will lick the pain
from my paws
and live off the blood
of tonic
chronic flaws

***
Not yo mama's New Year's poem!
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crimsin Poetryman David_Macleod MisanthropicShynes
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