There are words—never to
be said without shotgun matter
shattering the teeth with
Ready to be expelled from the throat
into the oblivion…Masked with
realizations and rebellion…
Taken to the misguided center—where
a tar and feather punishment waits;
Along a street of forlorn dreams and broken promises.
Yes, words begging to be heard—to martyr the
strange in their journey to create…to walk in semen
infested alleys where sometimes the good do die young.
The old stags tough out and the others marvel and laugh…at
I DO NOT ENJOY THIS
I’m a millions mile away…but have not left my skin.
This ride has taken me near death’s door a few times; walking
along the edge of a fine razor sword.
Two words that do not belong together—pain and beauty,
Ride together with me always.
I do not enjoy this.
About Dan Provost:
Dan Provost poetry has been published in numerous online and small poetry print mags. He is the author of eight books, his latest; Born to Look Down at the Ground, was published by Covert Press. He lives in Worcester, Massachusetts.