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Shut Up

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originally published 2010

 

The angst of the well fed falls

deafly upon my ears

The whines of the dreary privileged

Are like fingernails

On chalkboard

To me

When you're dead you will long for

the indifferent slight

of a lover, or a gloomy rainy day,

that leaves you blue

You'll pine for it

In your box

Facing up

Staring eternally at the linings of

your new complaint

Comments (1)

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Spectacularly put. Timely do your steps make imprints on the increased gravity of this soil of today. Thank You.

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