by JW Mark
I return to spike the live-long morning
Dull brained, mush mouthed, drunk in dread
For burn bright egg goo gore made burn of morning here and now.
What yellow is this morning?
Buzz bomb, vibrant, fuzz fused hum
Of lusty malcontented heat (for me)
: The nothing, stillborn, nil and null.
Of blue-gray splotch of absent goop
Un-enlivened by this tempest morn
Whose but burden does this day provide?
Possession all of fancy, this, a rude red shine of vibrancy
Scream stiff insisted honesty
And fights to dine
alone into the night.