Do Not Say You Want That for Me

intentional infliction of pain

is not the secret of poetry

just lazy

                 your disappeared

                      teachers misguided you

they each wanted you

               to be as wretched as themselves


your professor, advising you to write your life

                                                              into trifle

and his wife, inviting you to be her tub-side voyeur

offered the sameness of their desolation

rationalization that this is just the way life is

its pieces, pittances, simply scored solace points

those just don’t know

how could they see

from under limestone

gathered angels await your art

without condition

baby, it’s never too late.

      still                               

you are breathing

Originally published by Misfit Magazine.

Photo credit: Ranney Campbell, 2024.