Untitled 322

Fables cast aside along with figments

Last remains of which just slipped down the drain

Dishwater dilluted by the luke warm

Washed up nerves joy-numb overcast gray pain

While I claim that your perch is cast iron

This aging carcass still cringes and swells

Blasted by bursts of sobering winter

Wooed and diffused by charming groundless spells

Until I find an anchor for these knees

Kudzu will continue to entangle

Rendering the still small spark extinguished

Thorned weed grown around seed it will strangle

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