the slimy tentacles
of time
slither among
the driftwood
of consequences
hail to thee
oh bearded bastards
of angst immemorial
hail hail
forsaken the dreamspit
the splinter
in the eye of fate
the waste water rapids
of youthful
indiscretions
rancorous
is the need
in the face
of patience
rancid
is the respite
between
here and then
I love this
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the words have gotten way different. I don’t know. I want to write an olde time poem
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