After the beginnings and well
before the ends I'm out
of things. Even then my
marks are made imperfectly
apart, not really fitted to
the works.
Making them outside the plans I
steal my places, taking spaces left
or skipped in thoughtful hurry; a
blotch of blue dabbed here,
an eye made more to glare, the
black iron ring pulled back a
bit to show the scar.
[+]
JW Drake lives and writes poetry and other things
in North Carolina. He has had work published in
"Nefarious Ballerina," "Red Ochre Press," "Line Zero,"
and other small but extremely intelligent printed and
e-publications.
