doug bentley


Muddy Aura


this isn't about
how your head turns muddy red

when you lean against the wall
or my skin pulling porcupine quill

all over
when you wave your finger
like an axe aimed at my neck.


this isn't about
riveting images of wrath

and spinal war starting to spin
on your chest like electric fans.

not about burgundy flare hop
skipping a foot and a half
above your receding hair line.


this is about
stemming suffering that starts
at the end of body greed

in the empty heart core
that drains away forever

Submitted: Sunday, March 03, 2013
Edited: Thursday, December 04, 2014
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Topic of this poem: anger

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