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Gargoyle

extreme the hand snatch the cup I will collect pride very good morning my injured limbs my sons remember that time only disasters? but everything in the flesh achieves healing and already my defeats knew before: the audacity of courage ignores who will soon wear shame she shrinks she hermit gets shy spreads the sour scent of runaways quarter to six I woke up coffee how many sips did i take before i knew? our trifle insignificance on the outside it's just a skinny shell in the middle nerve pulsate membrane and in the core where it weighs tons act the gargoyle that accuses us of being nothing, my injured limbs, my sons

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Date: 11/3/2022 8:50:00 AM
Very interesting poem, Marco. I particularly liked "...how many sips did I take before I knew our trifle insignificance." A consideration of self-awareness that penetrates the "nerve pulsate membrane." Yes, it is an inner gargoyle "that accuses us of being nothing."
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Marco Chies
Date: 11/3/2022 2:32:00 PM
Your observations are always punctual and neuralgic, Milton. Thanks for commenting.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things