Blue Sky Blacked Out
Ego rushed the countdown.
What’s a scoreboard to a lion?
Giants don’t know how to
stop ripping. Meat grinder
for me and mine. Hollow points
ring our ears. Fear like
a smoke screen with
teeth. I swear the sun’s
growing, or getting closer.
Time to move on from
heavy red clouds. That storm
confirmed yet? How many inches?
Fate is paper-thin.
My teacup told me different.
Can’t see myself making
a monument. Hammer and chisel.
Knuckles chunky. My grip’s too
greasy. Who said I didn’t try?
Streets rotting left and right.
Save some gin for warmth.