Word Play

Burn Out Poet

Out of mind?
Out of sight.
Baby,
just flowing with the rolling thoughts stinking inside my head.
I move inside the sides of thick judgmental rantings
murderous with arrogance
enveloped
in stale pale heat
waves of doubt
-ing
what’s really relevant and
in a moment of politic clarity
stunning like a high octane
low calorie
fire cracker
bang
from my head
to my hand
to my mouth
to you
the chilling sick revelation that I have nothing worth to write or say
nothing.

nothing witty
nothing silly
nothing cute
not nothing
nowhere
no who
no why
no reason
never
not today
not tonight
good riddance
and
good
night.

———
(originally written circa 1994-2002)

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