Trina Stolec, October 2013

Black

 

It’s said you can’t walk

at midnight forever.

At some point,

you’re supposed to hit

dawn.

It’s said you can’t wander

in fog very long

before ambush

or mind snap,

            you see ambush where no bush exists

            and aim is very bad.

            Tar slickens you like sweat.

Sexton went pretty fast.

Plath had to try.

Buk and Poe took eons.

In the end,

eight ball sweat

slit their breath.

            Black lung suffocation without

 

benefits or acknowledgement.

Promote. Poetry.
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