Best Catalepsy Poems

Haunted towers and fallen houses,
Tell tales with bricks and mortars:
Of scions spun by sprouts of spouses,
Slogging limbs for quarters.

Each day is spent in catalepsy,
Metabolized days in seconds.
Meant for manufactured folly,
That Frederick Usher reckons.

In a nameless, numbered working wight,
In his capital-crafted, corporate culture,
Taphophobia fails to fright,
In...

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One generic baby boomer, (a garden variety sexagenarian)...
offers his interpretation of critical race theory

I, (an articulate, charming, domesticated, 
erudite, friendly, genteel, humorous, intelligent,
kind, learned, male, albeit modest – married) 
with freshly clipped formerly gnarly toenails
discounts the popularized myth
encompassing world wide
webbed historical events
despite being taught Northern...

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