Inky Exorcisms: Prose Poem Prompt
White-covered hills erect with masculine pilferage
‘low-currency’ feeling losing its relevance once said out loud
impotent words limp in memory useless consciousness
in adolescent clothes, the truth is nothing but death slaying
moments in its black wake mourning all the
spent opportunities to live out horror or laughter or despair.
All favored over joy for happiness is backward.
Our part in it…