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Writer's pictureVincent Vecchio

Belladonna

My hand misses the company of another,

Another belladonna to huzza as m’lover,

Another to hug, caress & kiss. Another

t’lug my ass through life by the wrist…

Moldy’s grown these nights I’ve festered;

The dusty harp chords too long unplucked

Wither away sequestered in the dungeon

Of my soul… My plagued heart bludgeoned

And bludgeoned hums its bloody samba…

Distant as the midnight owl’s croon.

sonatas of drama

w/ the piano always out of tune.

You'll find no pearls in my bones.

You'll see no gleeful god in my smile.

The broken djembe of depression

I beat… and beat… and beat

Till back into my iron-maidened mind

I retreat… There again I’m the mongrel

Mangy and muzzled in his cage…

Gradually going mad, whimpering

In a lonely December rage.

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