SPADES
by the end
of this poem
(pert
bottom of the page)
all will be peachy
locked
and fully loaded
under control
will have
star-trekked myself
into futures
held every debt
to account
gone full-bore
swallow-tail ouroboros
disappeared
up into my own head
there to sojourn, as
failed practitioners are won’t
finding he
who is always with me
what
the thunder said or not
clean-combed, well
brushed
holding the
purgatory password
and
when it comes to
the nature of sly artistry
soul truth
in diamonds
raw wisdom in spades
poems 2 die for 