Roundings

Mike Bell/ February 12, 2020/ www.mikebellpoems.com/ 0 comments

I am dreading how this
bout will [now] play out
as my stability stiffens –
as notions & conscious
steps re-hire – unloosed
Every inhale is a severe
noose looped to my neck
[pulled] – so swallowing
[or gulps of air] crumple
[choked] Now conceded
so let me abdicate to my
ways of sipped red ales
Let me fall slow without
doing me in /Settle now
[Michael] to an outcome

E120220

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