The Argument

It often just falls in the lap
Unable to brush it off
Always wringing the wet rag
It rubs on your mind,
Gives an itchy scalp.
It makes the backbone ache

The conversation is my camouflage
A business suit, city walls
To be right! To be right!
I’ve sharpened my point
The defense hides behind the stacks
Of books
No more of this bait and hook
Jab and the crook
of my arm is around your neck
To be right! To be right!
Every exclamation
I spit in your eye.
Your heartfelt concepts bleed
Effortlessly from half parted
Lines
Limp, shrug
Shuffle and sigh
The hot air
dies

The Argument

Upsidedownck

Monona, United States

  • Artist
    Notes
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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