dander

Joseph Pinto, the barflypoet

‘dander’

collect the corners. truth is i can’t stand you. clotting spaces you think i don’t look but there you are. hoarder of retreats i set aside. drawling footfall drawn further than the extraction from drunks. destroy my senses while living in a deficiency all your own. what a life to have entered into. what a shame to drain the expectancy from my sad sack of bones. i signed the dotted lines of my own dna but never the fucked extrapolations from your cells. there’s more than a broom-full to be swept from the course of things but i can only reach so far back along this karmic timeline much the way i can’t retrieve common sense from within your head.

dander:

skin flakes in an animal’s fur or hair

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© Joseph A. Pinto

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Poetry served raw and unedited from the moment crafted

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