A Miscellaneous Poom That Fits Not A Category

 


Wonder when the starlings are
 coming back.      Amazing little birdies, ain't they?

I canno          find a word (the word), to nudge me
              off this silly metaphoric precipice to free
        "me", freeflight wit them metaphoric   angels.

The beauties are long gone, and love became
                                                           impossible
                                  sometime ago.
Marginalized, minimalised, maybe due to invasive
            techniques from anOtherworld
            where none are allowed "from bad to worse"
       (in a topical, typical context),

Now comfort erodes much faster than rot.
And rot decomposes for The Cycle of things.
And The Cycle of things is merely one of those metaphors
    made for someone less imbecilic than my-self,
      and says dark is not evil, as light is not truth
                        (necessarily), always seeming
   to  try to make some Thing out of that which is not.

Now, where once I could touch you and hold your living hand,
      there is no consoling sound in either daylight or dark.
            Personally, "I can't stand it".... in whatever that
                   may mean, in any framework of "possible".

I come to the thought of You, with no'thing in hand, nothing
     at all graspable.........and certainly NoThing embraceable
                   (by any means) , and with no "going back"


aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
2019dankozakbadpooms+worseFotograffy,..........