night air

with visions clear
can you shed a tear
like water off your back
where you belong?

strong.

stronger.

pounding like a grounding wind
that slams you to the earth
without any discussion
of justice or fate

catering to nothing but the feast
of ages

cages
of man

planning the revolution
in the face of an evolution
that explodes
like poppies
in the firepit

spitting
a balm
of oblivion
into the cool
and cruel
night air.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.

ever feel like there is a scorpion in your skull, looking for the way out. or further in?

me, too.

imagine how I'd be if I had ever done drugs? scary.

Happy week-before-National-Poetry-Month. I'm back. be glad. I am.