Had another droll day, came home and wrote this hex and fretted about the apartment. While writing this poem I got some assistance and thoughtful feedback from some regulars, which greatly influenced the final draft.
You'll Be Just Like Me
Nostalgia drenched in foul bitterness,
wasteful malice rippling through
each utterance: Patmos wind. Refracted
recollections of amorous afternoons
past do nothing for my luster thus.
I quake, rope deep in the well pulled
taut, yanking myself up and froth through
the epidermis, pooling in
your subterranean urges
until after one worst day,
stoned and broke, no
lovers clamoring on
the telephone, we'll
be on equal footing
once more.
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