Undertow/Afterglow

managed to stay calm
until i saw
every single door wreathed in
flame.

pyrotechnics ablaze, and
the rats are scurrying for the tiny holes in the wall.

i don’t ask for much, but
you’ve got me
equal parts
punch-drunk
and
fucked-up
on spiritual impoverishment.

barbed-wire intoxicants
putting a sudden stop
to calisthenic overconfidence; but
my ego has enough ancillary depositions to fuel a small economy.

iconography recurrent, and,
ironically,
I’ve driven a current of misplaced sincerity to
cynical
beaches.

leeches in the water, but
we’re much farther
from land
than ever before.

i won’t ask you to
weather the storm with me, but,
proportionally speaking,
you’re more of an anchor
than any previous
alloy.

gallows humor, and
i’m disappearing into
blood-colored
afterglows.

undertow pulling us down, but
i’ll look you in the eye
while i drown
in sunset-saturated
ever-afters.

laughter at all the wrong moments, but
it’s alright because
you’re the only
atonement
still worth dying for.

i’ve reconfirmed my entropy, and
i’m trading it in
for
full
market
value.

Willie Watt
06.28.17

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