Raced that track
already went down
the fox’s den
disarmed my tired
teeth, teeming with
asperity.
Swallowed nihilism
whole for a decade
decorated in misery,
mistaken embraces,
or else lethal-dosed
apathy.
Hit the top
of cynic’s ceiling
and crashed down.
Seen enough of
the shadow cast by
arrogance.
—N.A.
Mouth Thorn 