little brown girls DONE WRONG

Crack whores. No – crack-holes; and whack-holes make black holes. In a rhythmic pretty-is-as-pretty does business. Is there a witness to crimes of white lines in the sand? And a festive hand strikes a chord ACROSS ALL THE little brown girls’ FACES in places they don’t belong; for the long-shot. No – WRONG-shot; straight through a galley of hearts. And false starts. And departs…

Though unintended breath ended and he bends the knee for what he sees through tears. Of many years without a care for what’s grownup; for what’s blown up. Until you’re torn up into pieces in front of your nieces; dear JESUS. And it’s undone. It’s undone… What’s become of the sum-value of accountability? Find your humility… And repent; not resent. That keen sentiment, though sentient, is a blame-changer.

(Tragedy free-write inspired by recent events.  RIP Izabella Rose.)


About LVital7019

Just your normal, everyday 9-5er. An uninspiring position in an inspirational non-profit moves me to constant goof-offery; aimless, on-the-job procrastination; a crankiness that borders on psychosis; and attempting to craft something meaningful with words. Just another so-called-job inspiring someone to feats of insanity with a hint of creativity... (Insert demonic laugh HERE.) View all posts by LVital7019

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Tony Single

artist. wastrel. a quantum of potential.

The Greenwich Village Literary Review

A magazine by writers who love to write for readers who love to read.

The Winter Bites My Bones

The Collected Poems of Dennis McHale: 1981-2016

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