and Hope the Space Between
—Self Defense of Poetry—
do we camo what we mean
hiding out in shallow blocks
while tied to skimpy lines of
entrenched typographic thoughts
—we crouch over a blank page—
—Fearing Exposure of Day—
in no man's land where other
well versed poets have long past
battling wretched pretexts
for that precious strange relief
—pen & inking tend to bring—
—By Razor Thin Bloodletting—
like a public press release
if someone might comprehend
the minimum that was shed
and clotted throughout the night
—Darkness must be a poem—