Francis Tikava Poems

My single purpose has come to an end,
And yet I continue to work.
My tattered wrinkled self intends,
To finish free of murk.
...

Away from me now!
Away!
I cannot feed you, clothe you or care for you,
Your stolid nature and frail frame depress me.
...

I live,
In a fantasy,
Surrounded by pigs,
Entranced in sloth,
...

I am not a widow,
Nor was I born of one,
But still,
I look around and feel like something's absent.
...

I predict,
That when you meet your end,
You'll wish you'd spent more time in jest.
I predict,
...

I was told to exercise,
To feel my Pythagoras grow.

Or maybe it was exorcise,
...

For every fight and every tear
Every time I fail to steer
Moment passes like a day
I need to know you heard me say
...

Countless crows careen in rows,
Seemingly seamlessly.
Taking care to fix their glare,
Briefly but boldly.
...