not so abstract

been around a bit, flirted with Hell’s
gates a few seasons, a mystery
or miracle the earth still hosts these
feet; you know, in those days online guides
and video coaches, well, they
were not even twinkles, so it’s easy
to pick up the magical glasses
they mass manufacture these days
and see and nod recognizing what they
now call dysfunction and causes
for poor esteem; regret

only inability to go back
and during a Gilligan’s Island
or Dark Shadows commercial break
or between fab four tunes, plead
an artist’s case; note please the array
each pretty as the second grade
secret crush; need time for finding
a happy place dance groove, but forward
beats the rearview rivet,
oh and dearest rotting phantoms
– psst!
the optimist is ultimately immune


About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
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