Page Twenty-Nine

Darkness broke, and spoke

with words to prod and poke.

For simpler folk

To choke back smoke;

They’d spew plumes,

fill rooms.

Spit Tea faster than sonic booms

back at a simpleton.

They’d build Your tomb…

…but not so for our bloke.

The Dark may aggress,

but our boy does not obsess,

nor stress a digress. His confess to care less.

To not mess in pools of cess;

Knows a button not to press.

Misogyny unmasks obscurity’s androgyny,

Defining cool,

And all of its antiquity.

Alas, the bird points and the fates anoint anew.

A target in sight.

A checkpoint in view.

Coerced of course to a course so coarse.

Onward with one word:

That only for this dumb bird,

would a boy do the absurd,

meet a stranger, safety not sured.

So soon after its murdered,

and murmured

a hurt person’s hurt word.

Sass was predicted by the source that depicted

A Hotumn lost, a Paradise evicted.

Not be trust that thrust the boy to do what he must.

To near a bubble one burst from a bust.

Not rubbings of lust, Frictions rubbled to dust

If that’s a good guy, then the courts be unjust.

Two knives make a scissor, and cut the space between.

Slice the surface as it’s seen,

insults so clean. Disguising the mean

in tones timed so pristine.

Talked down to by the legality of her regality,

god saves for the queen.

Swift as a shadow flicker and be gone

Forward and toward, our tale saunter on.

The points were made and met

And tomorrow awaits them yet.

Accepting the hand be done drawn.