Poem: “Sad Fact Is”, fr. notebooks, Jim Stallings

Sad fact is

Like bad weather

In your face

Each and every breath

The horns of dilemmas

The standard measure

Has lost its respect

All is rubber sheet

Contortions in alternate

Universes flashing with

Disharmonies that grate

The ear drums with potent

Denials of action

We are listless

Without plan or motive

All pales in twilight

Azure shadows are our food.

 

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Filed under first thought, flash poetry, poetry, prose poetry, works in progress

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