Sauron the Great

A poem

Ai and author

I’ve been probed, stoked, poked and clawed out of
all while trying to reach Satan from the toilet, but
I managed only to summon Sauron.

Only

Tired, defeated, cut and cooked (by the fire of his own home), he was but a
finger, not even an eye, wiggling about for a love as gone as mine.

I took pity. 2 a.m. “Time to take a breath, my friend”.

Picked him up, made a saddle out of my pocket and booked a trip.
A long-haul flight over the seven seas. But,

pity me, my ignorance, and belief, and take a page
out of my good being. I just forgot a finger cannot see

shit.