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At the End of My Rope
I study my scowl in the back of a spoon
As the Rumbletide ripples in a cup of Joe*
The lap desk that holds it is vibrating, too…
The window is shattered, my boots bumbletied
The knife pricks my neck, right there in the ‘V’
And the fellow who holds the knife is me.
__________________
* coffee
(Just a note – this is fiction!)
February 15, 2019
Submitted for: Reflect That Emotion Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Nina Parmenter
Copyright ©
Andrew Fairchild
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