Pose and Proetry love and rants

Love And Money

Whether running from anguish or chasing delight, there's no satisfaction in agitation.

 

in times of danger, trouble and fire
the slap of heat, your swollen hair
each pore is a pin—

you can grind down your nails by
scratching for blood
but the red oil burns no sin

the sticky hopes you chase all day
cannot be swallowed without a sting
there's glass in that honey

so roll up your tongue and
chew it down
stop wanting love and money