patricia walsh, some redemption

some redemption

Recycling nightmares, sick with worry,
Married to impossibility impersonal,
A likely breed to regurgitating tears,
Fair trade insults slung low over again
Setting fire to fantasies insulted all over.

Well-meaning countdowns scar the limited,
The solitary child misbegotten, imagined so,
Being another’s kind, kissed out of opportunity
Moving tables vacated within reason,
Watching for parasites still overseeing

The particular best customer, forgiving everything,
Wasting money religiously, the slow pittance,
Voluntary industry kept the drinks sweet,
Evacuation notices still cold and dry,
The overdue frost pernickety the roadways.

I myself am not a crime. Planned without foresight,
A solution to a local problem, too pure,
Needing another beating, preferment likely
Appreciating consideration and looking forward
Supremacist love like a desire obliterated.

The makeshift study, the cause celebrated,
The chaste trump card goes on forever
Declaring nothing, the intrusive bleeding,
Producing prophecies to such like, properly
Forgetting the minor fault, not given lightly.

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