How In Hell? Poem by William B. Deutscher
How In Hell?
Spent force
drift away,
off-course
every day.
Shout out
in the street
at your feet
murder blood
tracking mud
on the floor,
full bore
going gone
carry on
anyhow
see it come,
or not.
Cupid's Run
caught now
wonder why
self love
up above
starry sky
vast, past
all imagination.
Beyond our station.
Saturday, June 14, 2025
Topic(s) of this poem: murder
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8/28/2026 12:56:51 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
