Freeverse 669

6/12/22

street asphalt concrete
are the words I speak unique wrote for a week
the sharpened tip of a bird's beak
let it marinate like steak and chill with ice in crates
opened flood gates used to have to wait to beg for half a plate
black holes dilate as inflation inflates
laugh at campfire stories of stakes in a vampire's face
sasquatch anthologies scratch for apologies rashes follow me
young people looking mid 40s, robot orgies
dehydrated fruits look like kumquat-colored Orbeez
can't fix like cleats danced on leather seats too much litter at the beach
my head speaks split like the Red Sea in trenches and peaks
something to sink my pen's teeth in however brief

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Please show me a randomly selected poem