Verse Use
Theme living is a comfortable genre Whose plot crevasses steal bold souls. Can remainders, outside the climes, Be all hell broken Looser than confusing passages? Wise vigils remain uncertain Until candle wretches become soot lungs. There's only one main character In ice veins and gold luges: Our traces are Mount Olympus or Tai Unless one had the foresight To float over a trench as a sunlight-bearing reef. Ocean chaos reckons with fiction; When Chekhov's guns rust on the floor, Fire can't circle back under water. That's where poetry comes in: A sweatless fever dream To be relied on When concrete crumbles And disproven schematics Gather dust on damp bookshelves.