Mistakes Were Made



It's all gone wrong
again, a little slap &
tickle between friends
turned into a draining of the
lizard's brainpan, a venting
of his spleen into a saucepan
that we left on to simmer.
He might've even
writhed in agony before we
plucked a bouquet
of nosegay & used it
to smudge the crucible
of dried eyes
until there was no dry eye
in the room.  A demon
without wings is just
a bad idea & a skeleton
is just the crux
of the matter, hung out
dry for the end of time.



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