by Pat Darnell
I don’t like being tossed aside
I am fretting my fate
Kitchen spills may be small
But too many broken hearts
Simply we do not repair all
You hear distant voice
A fond soundtrack
Predestined of choice
And you fret and crack
I had my heart attack
I reveal my full heart ache
You listen but abate
As heartstrings leave slack
Difficult flat to mitigate
even for hummingbirds
to trans-navigate
You are Specie of Strength so youth say
Don’t be codger to me old man
I am not interested
And you are in the way
Or, as you don famously
To point out the way
To clues of nerve chords
To invert our shameful play
Thanks but no thanks
You play too many tricks
I loathe your blood anger
And garlands festooned
Like piñatas beat with sticks
Seeds of salvation are rand
And not in your hands ole man
Nor in the works of your hands
From raptors talons, I howl back to say
Into this imbalance youth threw me too soon
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment