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Running For The Door

If you use the word languish
I’m stopping my read
When you speak the word nurture
 I’m far from intrigued  
If I hear you say milieu
I run for the door
Or when you spout genre
my ears to abhor
They’re chosen to impress
when the meaning is weak
Concealing the emptiness
of all that you speak
‘A labyrinth of dilettantes’ 
penning your verse
Can’t hide what is missing
— with these words you assert 

(The New Room: February, 2024)

Copyright © Kurt Philip Behm

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Book: Shattered Sighs