Reading My Sappy Poems

With slightly less black hair uptop

But a modestly higher salary below

I sat reading my old linty poems


Shaking my bearded head every time

I used “nobility, time, darkness, anger

shadow, honour, wisdom and mortal”


I noticed my emotions ran wild like

Feral cats hunting in a mouse shoppe

By carving spring loaded wooden traps


That when snapped, would make me

Sound like a viking ate a knight then gave birth

To a troubled 16 year old Dominican kid in Bklyn


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