Poetic Referendum(s) On Life

Flushed

Flushed

Words circle a drain to drown.
In your bath, I sink,
Stainless.
Perfection washed clean
From hands that toil
For you,
You consume in this bath.

Unworthy,
I watch the tap open
A deluge upon
My head.
Unable to consume what you call
Your love,
I spill down the channel
To a dark dimension,
Space afforded
Fools like me seeking
True divinity
Only to discover
A sewer runs through
My sentences forming words
Of grief.

I am flushed
In your stainless drain, again.


7.13.21
It is what it is 7.18.21

Poets Needed:
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