lizard tail

–loose

flicks back & forth

looks alive!

(isn’t)

there’s something

about

complete

condemnation

that makes my back bristle…

that makes my shoulders square

that makes my chin lift, and

wakes the sleeping giant

of pride

–rudely.

I am not the

scarlet woman

you cast me,

I am not

grist for your mill,

I am not

absolute bad, and

your jacket

does not

fit me

–because after all–

it’s your jacket.

moods & muse

are aggregate.

a melded pair

not separate.

proportionate

but so distinct

–one you know

and

one you think.

feelings factor

in as much,

to muse and moods

and their construct

–determining

the emanation

of intertwined

collaboration.

so if your muse

is fine

and mood–

is also high

you might diffuse,

uplifting art

or pleasing prose,

but otherwise

–not even close.

 
It shows
the best of us,
but nurtures the worst…
the petty
and unformed,
the uncertain
and immature,
 
 
the righteous mob
mentality
of sheep
and wolf alike
–social media
abdicates
accountability…
one account at a time.

 
I gave up thinking years
(ago)
in private
time p’aled in comparison
to state
&
frith dissolved
 
–though hope barely melted–
condensing sweet
on glass
(service)
&
evaporating in the cold
. . .
becoming bitter
–in ensuing weaks
warm
&
flat
–only palatable
over sea.

 
I don’t trust

purple, anymore,

it’s the
 
 
 
 
hue, man

it gets to me. . .

the violets

&

the moues

—some colors shouldn’t mix

not

wine-colored

birthright,

n’orchids that will

–not compound,

–not context

–not confluence

just consequence

 
 
–I don’t trust purple, anymore

no perse &

no plum.