Poet As Pressure Valve

Vintage Words


This is the way life sucks;

big as time, like a volcano

that erupted long ago

and is threatening to go

again. Tragedy always

underfoot, deep underground

and serious.


This is the evil life lives

small as a nightmare

wrapped in a tragedy

on the edge of a ledge

about to fly without wings

and land on your agenda

like a badly composed item.


Here is an inalterable meaning

of life: In between salted tears

and flashed smiles is where

we live for uncounted hours,

where slow years become

delusioned decades, where

unchangeable pain stays

the same.







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Some Things

Do not change.

Lady A