quietus

so Swift, that other shoe drop
my becoming anachronistic
as that opening line

as yesterday’s wear and tear
fashions threadbare the naked
truth of the second stroke(?)

or an endmost cosmic joke
a tee-hee of maybe baby, right damn now!
Or the cynical chortle of corporeal jest
while saving the best last laugh for a 3 a.m.
and thirty below, three feet of snow,
end of the show

So fitting for this expat southern boy


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