Book o' Verse In praise of lousy words April 2, 2021 • 0 Comments Lousy words roll, start somewhere toward the back of his skull Marble out in his too full mouth toward his lips, from his lips spinning, spill out onto the floor. Lousy words make him slide fall sprain on the ice his wrist catching himself with his right hand, the seat of his pants cold, wet. Why stand on the ice in the first place in those sharp, black shoes? And those same lousy words mark joy mark life letting him shine through. Letting him shine like marbles like ice spinning, sliding like sharp black shoes covered in ice debris now as he rights himself. As he sends those words from the back of his skull to yours and all the shimmer points in between. 0
