The Forger

My body distrusts
any sweet arcs
of attraction
and maybe-arousals

not allowing myself
second glances
or catches of my eye
in another one –

having been bloodied
by a weighty hammer
and now aching
with that castration –

a combination
of low forces
by her hammer blows
off her lie-weighted tongue

Mike Bell Poetry

Mike Bell aims to write 10,000 poems, stick them up here one at a time, and then take a nap. By then he should be about 85 years old and have out-gunned PD, dementia, and the end of days. Possibly. Before the floods and fires. Mike Bell is found working for money as a freelance set designer.

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