Force words
in quiet morning
moment.
Rewinding days,
catching up to
consistency
as dreams feel
like the fading
is on the frontline
& you’re brother to
Marty McFly.
Giving shorts
to readers with
ugly knees–
they want pants.
Because pants are long
and cover the ugly
easy.
Words choppy and sloppy
feeling heavy
like Teeny
is on your chest.
Slide some oil
to me,
70’s baby
bound to new
millennium
just ain’t feeling right
The internal struggle
unworthy of viral
Vile is not an
adjective to be used;
scrub it from thoughts
as the silence becomes
deafening.
Will throw these
forced words on
the wall of the
blog
and see if something
sticks.
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