title

Goodbye forum.

Surrender was the straw of hope
and took it up they did. Battalion
vaunts up and rose but pomp
was clouded in. A flame lit immoral
befitting rise in passion,
leading rants on Yankees
to cook their pride in sin.
But where mind at will
gives thought to fort and citadel
is built, a tyrant will annex
but feel his soul burn like cinders.
A change of season
and fortune brought
from middle-west,
a defense ...

From my cat napping on a ledge
the world is aeon cotton string
and rigid people are swatting critters
in their selfish phrases.
the ledge leans
in my balmy kitchen
with olive sprinkled brocolli
as stars that wink Wisconsin Corn
to a crescent, sun-down sleep

my shutting
fridge, disinterested
with all the lowly livings
whose bloated tummies
pang the counter tossing olives
are the irises of infants ...

Anti Micro-Wrath Protection

It’s your duty to know the danger...:

it’s as big as small as
big in all society... or
as big as small as big
is in society.
(Either way it’s bad. Get it. You need it. You know it.) TM
-----
I’m couchant by my yester-week hide,
guaranteed seclude
from micro-wrath:

a euphemism of societal wrath, its worst at that,
brewed with macro in micro version,
taught ...

My Fog: The Moral Cleaner

I sat in a sunset's dip of glean;
its pre-rain trickles dressed in form
to wash my shoulder's decked forlorn--

just like a friend on whose shoulder you lean,
When adversity is a face in all that you've seen,
It seeped up my woe in an evil conform,
and flung it to the turbulent crest of a storm.

My whims were unleashed in melodious green,
Spare sockets of fog rising pupils doth showed, ...