feels disastrous

they watch me
silent judgment
the shadows make
the hair on the back
of my neck stand
gobbling each word
swishing them
over razor tongues
noses upturned
as they comb along
years of need
gargoyles perched
in dark corners
stealing the best
plump clusters
of metaphorical
insolence to spread
honey over their
insipid lies

my heart is bound
heavy chains
rusted anxieties
still beating
in concrete malaise
every cornerstone
contains the soul
of a poet stolen
by the fetid winds
blowing over cemeteries
a gathering of woe
glinting in the
eyes of sparrows
from the heavy limbs
leaking pools of
darkness to coalesce
murkily between the
faded headstones

i whisper
good morning, my love
as the coffee drips
a solitary ripple
of best intent
black against black
lost in the morning
hooded eyes glare
hunters in the brush
scopes trained
fingers resting gently
on triggers
prepared to fire
as the ground shudders
in a swell of
moon drizzled despair


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