Goodbye to All That

A Mess


(At a Table
Goddess—Fable:
Anger – Able.)

Within a clan
There was a plan:
The god is man.

So mother frayed;
And brother played;
While I: charade.

Around the ghost
We still do toast
He who cut: roast.

Not knowing night
For bearing plight --
Love begets might.

(Pounding out this
Was not amiss
From seeking kiss.)



Slightly better

Pleasant is the stair
Going up somewhere.
Mattered little then,
Martyred, battered wen.

Patient for a dare,
Angry at a pray'r.
Stopping life so that,
I'm a void somewhat.

Passing lights do glare,
Some finale tear.
"Arrogance is bliss,"
Filling me, you hiss.