UNPOETS DO CRY

THIS mind has made war
always funny until
dislocated became
a heart of mine.

deepest love destroyed
by because and why
filth abounds here
bits and pieces cry.

upon the One they shat
then glorious encore.
she laughed and spat
(how lower could a soul
go against a friend

unselves to lend.)

a rolly-polly of hope
hopes must coo or boo
to strut or creep
ungenerous who:

woke is dead wishing
it could eat fish
and proudly things
only which grow.

how wishing daring
to dare for joy
of joy) that thing
stinks is here

unpoets do cry.

:: 04.02.2022 ::