I Am the Hyphenated-Man

There is a (hyphenated-) hope in your mouth and I hope it stays long

I hope you hang on to every word as long as you can stomach it

Mottled (-sorry) so many times it made a path

Straight to where I laid my head on the grass

It was a great savanna of grass, I dragged my sickle across

And cut my arm on the backswing, for she was a clever weed

She knew just how to work herself free

The night was in constant consternation

A web-work of lies for me to drink to

Orion’s Belt was really just a noose laid flat on the night

Or just about to

My bottle tipped to soaked shoes

A (fever-) worse fate awaited me…on the mottled path at my feet

My stomach can’t bear the words—they say what they mean

I’m just a (hyphenated-) heart and I hope it stays long

Because otherwise I have nothing else to do.

 

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