Gnawing at dawn
a neighbor barks at the wind for blowing his garbage can lids into the street,
I’m only trying to keep my side clean.
a neighbor barks at the wind for blowing his garbage can lids into the street,
I’m only trying to keep my side clean.
You can’t teach an ideologue new tricks,
half-mast apologies,
full-fledged debauchery,
but enough about your fascination with propping up sycophants who created you in their own image.
Man, to find the strength I struggled to muster up,
holding grudges with my own resentments,
damn, this shit never is, was, or will be about you,
so don’t tell me,
you’ll dance on graves,
don’t tell me,
you’re kicking ass and taking names,
don’t tell me,
I didn’t ask.
No need for cold shoulders and frozen stares of passive aggression,
I prefer the heat of red hot active verbal assaults.
Know my mania,
even in love I write from a madness
that’s left dents in my bones.
I’ll promise to take myself less seriously only if you take on what I’ve given up.
Assume the best of me and I’ll give you more than assumptions to run on.
Kevin R. Farrell, Jr. is a New York based artist, poet, and educator whose work has been published in BONED – Every Which Way, Burning House Press, Rumble Fish Quarterly, Adroit Journal, Ink in Thirds Magazine, Foxhole Magazine, Yo-NEWYORK! and others.
In 2021 Farrell released Best of the Worst which consists of 20 poems that have risen to the top of the trash heap that is his constant documentation of a life spent toeing the line between spiritual bliss and emotional upheaval. As a recovering addict each day can be a struggle when dealing with the dumpster fire that is modern day existence. Sometimes Farrell attempts to put out the fire, on other days he warms his hands by the flames.
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