Save Me: A Word Salad Poem

He’s prickly, peculiar, but

more striking than I am-

so uneven, always converting.

 

I derive from a wild, natural

tendency to cause destruction that

No one sees in me. I retreat;

I cannot restore myself. I thunder

through authority shrunken,

l

o

w.

 

There are considerate ones

in countries where the power

is business cared for by

people who do compassion, and drink

ire.

 

So,

we wait.

spring breeds history.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *