Prolifics
Like power, beauty abhors a vacuum. A short poem.
I started making God-knows-whats
when my lack of an answer
to the “why-should-i-argues”
—amidst the “no-going-backs”
and wall-to-wall “fuck-its”—
became clear and present
dangerous,
magnificent
boasting once more,
at long last,
the advanced prolifics of a child.
