Poetry

It came like a hail
of leads.
An avalanche of
frog words.

There was no apology for pods.

Living in a seed vessel,
was very precarious. It
splits open from both sides.

You stand naked amidst
the barbs.

Will ever the man will do god
to a man?

I come near the lake
when moon lives.
Something was wrong. He was
looking very thin tonight.

I was not prepared for the pink tears.