wounded caricaturist

      Localized cryotherapy
& poignant telepathy
                 are the cures I’d had
                                   in mind

      They say sleep can be the cure-all
                   but that’s without any menthol
              so I’ll let the crowd decide

             What shape, my silhouette?
       Does it adorn horns/is it scorned
                  is___ fate, your marionette?
                             don’t tell me yet,
                        don’t utter a word
                      I want to be wrong
                Let the shivers tell me I’m wrong
                            Let them softly say,

Re _____ drawn.


8 thoughts on “wounded caricaturist

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