A poem
Parlezed
I’ve been giving my word, since dirtSo, however my dead daddy sacredly looked at itMy…
they told me it was the face of a mandescending like a fire raged storm
Juxtaposed dressed in clothesOr lying face to faceTurn me on and overHold me in your embrace
Written is my love
Having to write is my death
Language is my heart
Poem
That one terrible, ugly, and brutal sentence. So vicious I know if I could…
Excerpted status quo alert diggings into messes, mentally astute but trouble with what comes out