New Gate

There is an opening
That was non-existent
On the road to/
From your reason
For existence
Of the utmost import(ance)
No use for excess or success
In the heart of the matter
Or other extraneous organs
By today’s standards
Apple of my eye-poked
Clean dry-socket beet stains
I run from
Traditionalism straight into orthodoxy
Iron(ic) defi(ci)ent
My tunnel vision
A carrot to your horse
And worse
The white peach rotted
Mealy in her mouth
A barb-wired surprise
In the dark of a
New moon dusk
Twenty toucans
A clan of your
Not so distant cousins
A flank strategy
For victory has a way with words
Yours and mine, his and hers
Divided we conquer
Miles of emptiness
Our voices
The swords between chapters
The lines read to us
A palmed future, promised
Guaranteed to impress us
To impress upon us
Our own will

Old school branding

One of these kids is doing their own thing.

Make my day