Devilish | Angelica Fuse
Little
flicking tongue
little
flicking tail
you might expect
a pitchfork
that’s a little
direct for me
a sweet
salty
Molotov cocktail
siren.
Little
flicking tongue
little
flicking tail
you might expect
a pitchfork
that’s a little
direct for me
a sweet
salty
Molotov cocktail
siren.
I was a fan
of violence.
A man of
no patience.
Disrespect
was met
with a fist.
My knuckles
were memorable
to those who
didn’t mind
their own business.
Lessons were learned
through the gift
of malice.
Those in need
of tutelage
Were awarded
it in blood.
The glory days
when I was
a teacher.
The cops
ruined that
Busted
I have a new title.
What choice
is left for a
two-time loser.
Here I am
Years later
Fists in my pockets
Expressing myself
through words
Freedom of jail
Instead of violence.
My voice is one matter
but having the ability
to help my students find
voice is another
It is their idea
that will carry on from mine,
their thoughts will
bring needed relief
long after my drafts have
been thrown in the heap
It is a powerful notion
to help another build
thought, make change.
More at http://jddehartwriting.blogspot.com.
With a wet plopping
socket sound like pulling
the index finger fast
from the inner jaw
My life sank down
into the sidewalk but
Never fear. My life shall
scramble back up
one soon polished say.
They told me
to start small, so I shrunk
to the size of a pea
Then I grew and grew
until everyone else
had to climb over me.