Freaky Eyes

point

i ain’t nobody’s angelina.
just an agile bloodstain
from bold genetalia

a lanky beat
of hellbent vain
keen tenth of a novel

i awaken a gloomy hothead,
fall asleep
a legendary lobotomy
and nag lovingly

in trim dignity
and with one last flourish
of tidy verbal massacre
i’ll die like this

snarky rich and poor
as smacking dirt
befitting a dynamic hag

but will have wanted
to be more, otherwise
what was the point?

(c) Seven, 20080804