gkpoetry

Thick green algae, still,
Brown turtles sun on a log,
Black water slithers.

Irma is coming,
Winds, sea surge, floods, destruction!
Caught up with the bills.

Irma the Storm, Irma, Storm,
Maybe now just watch some porn.

Life seemed to push living a facade.
An old man knows why he squirms.
‘Twas to not have dug up green sod
Before, to face the mud and the worms.
He might have achieved an honest calm
To work through some troubling events,
A quiet steadfast soothing balm
To pop out unblunted dents
Unscrewing the vise on battered heart,
Easier then from her apart.