Woeful magistrate of incipient dreams
My right eyelash twitches
irreverent of waning daylight you
Your contestable emotions impose
Others tease me, my
staunch hope for
[This doesn’t read well, doesn’t
touch you, you think,
that’s because I’m intellectualizing,
pulling at gray matter like a cat clawing a couch.]
My heart is on her front porch
where she confuses my corpse
with scavenger hunt clues.
Judge of my creative character
Jailer of my blackened heart.
© Rick McKinney 1995