Tar
       

by the roadside, rude and odd and who
is it? won't it speak when it know better to?

every wrong word caught in its dumb trap
and how dare it think it is? the hit happen

next, as if saying to dull darkness: hey.
here I am being here and so hey. hey!

HEY! and still by the roadside, stuck,
presence to absence spattered in

that black ever mess.

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Copyright © 2013 Douglas Kearney All rights reserved
from Fourteen Hills
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission