A Damaged Thinker #35
By Darren C. Demaree

Touch my curl,
the bronze wave
so far from any
ocean that it could

cut the wind
into simple coal,
allow the energy
to spill through me

& frighten
the craving men
enough that they

for the first creation,
the second creation,
too.  So far from any
god, I wait for hell

to become real enough
that I can explain
this rotted lotus
of being to the fallen.