Sunday, January 8, 2017


Lines Laid Down By Others

Days of measles spent cloaked in twilight
Veil of curtains and dime store sunglasses 
Between me and a sun gone dark with evil intent
Hell bent on robbing me of sight while I was busy
Looking inward tallying up the wages of sin
Bedeviled by an itch that needed scratching
Hands sheathed in white tube sock condoms  
To ward off nails rendered poison as the fer-de-lance
Snake that glared back from a steamy jungle
Overlay in the World Book Encyclopedia
Slammed shut for the sanctuary of my coloring books
Prophylactics and perpetual twilight incompatible
With proper grip and slow waltz of a crayon 
But the germ of a lifelong unwillingness
To stay inside lines laid down by others.  

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