Polygons
Tricontadogon peg, round
hole, trying to compute this role
Wasting this life waiting and
maintaining a patient persistence
Knowing no one is ever going
to walk up with the correctly sized portal
For this obtuse polygon
mortal
One two many, and three less
Thirty two years of quilt
patch regrets
Genetics in a slug fest,
stunted height truncates the lot down into smaller flights
Location like a prison station
on Elba, an island to row out to and no
visitors coming through
The more I am here the more I
want to move, nothing here, but complaints
A travesty of bartered nights
piling up in reasons to stagnate
To shed the identity of the
man that I could become for my truncated self
Resigned on the precipice of
this hell to repeat for a semi-eternity
The maturation of my
offspring like a recoiling spring stretched out
Constantly returning here in
a boomerang ball and chain hindering and helping
Love in all its forms, the
differences in the astringents to apply that make
So many see none of this as a
possibility, even myself
A life on hold, like a magnet
with only south poles, how can this ever work?
Captivated and mandated to a
bargain with a lesser God I was unaware I contracted
My mind like a tempest
constantly brewing, considering linguistic acrobatics
Spewing word after word like
a testament burned like a brand
Glowing in red smelt tingeing
black absent of grasps that these books need to be read
I must share this swell and
find an equilibrium in her arms and
These women seem to wade in
shallow waters unable to respond to the maelstrom within me
And I feel like a singular
circus freak performing in a chicken cage
Alienating in my façade,
disturbing in my story, gray hairs growing and choices tethered
Travel plans truncated,
sliced and diced this decade into incomplete harvests
Praying for a family like a
sip to parch the thirst of this Antarctic desert
Vagabond love a conundrum of undulating
principles bellowing under a Who Dat sun
Praying for a luminous
rebirth, help me find you
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