to be the deepest redeemer
like coral reef Christ in Key Largo
you look up the meaning of "madrigal"
and decide it's got nothing to do with you.
Sometimes even a rain delay's
a win.
Gypped by her wide-set eyes
--soft, demure, and feline--
you're cussed out by the snot
that's oft mistaken for trench art.
If enough folks say you're wrong
then you're wrong
like that twenty-something kid
who said he won't learn shit
on a jackhammer.
Damned is the sea wall
since the ampersand arrow
knows just where to strike.
They don't want what's left.
They only want the piss in you.
Timing's a real cocksucker
in fairy tales.
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