pride

Self illuminating

Becalmed 

and rowing 

into these doldrums. 

Lost

but heading

to distant shore-lights….

They never grow closer,

these markers, 

these lights,

the lights

of pride. 

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incomplete

If I had everything I wanted

I’d probably never write another poem.

(not a good poem, anyway…

   assuming these are good…

     assuming I’m a poet…

        assuming I’ll ever have everything…

Christ!)

I’ve got nothing

    and that nothing

        is the center

            of my everything.