I have no illusions of immortality
Or do I?
The way I shovel known poisons into my mouth
Shout motherfucker at drivers who cut me off
The way I still haven't put up the smoke alarms, two years later
The way I keep putting off Moby-Dick
Let a day or more sometimes go by without writing a word
The way I, on rare occasions, neglect to say I love you
Hi William. I enjoyed your poem. I like the way it didn't rhyme, the varying verse lengths, and it runs from the profane to the tender so easily. Thanks very much. A