maybe not as aged as a tree,                 but longer than cousins or O.G.s.

 

                              a warm and thoughtful curse.

         always in the way.          here to stay.          

                                        patterns.

corrosive thread woven through 

        unstuffed, uncomforting symmetry.   heirloomed guzzling.

 

        sore digits.                                                the seconds yawning by...

 

                             swift portal into blood dedication.  

        wool up to chin on cold nights.                    

wine up to lips on dark days.

​

                                                   an eyesore

        tucked in a trunk.                                  unveiled and gawked at.

​

        draped, shrouded.                   big heavy shoulder pads.

                             

                                 my boys and i are already

dead.

                   to keep playing, please insert another miracle.