All the things that never happen
all the things you never are
if you could only accept them
and get out of their way
but poetry is not a condom
nor a cosmetic maybe more
an emetic every comparison
smacks of sibling envy last
night I watched The Brothers
Karamazov on TV the story’s a
one liner ‘You know who killed him’
which is where history began
finessing horror
and where I fell asleep
until that little bit of Dickens
at the end as they escape
the sick boy as picture
of our noblest part.
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