Prelude to the beatdown (a poem)

I’m not doing it on purpose, but my spelling seems to be becoming increasingly British.…

Every engine takes a few revolutions to slow down
before stopping altogether

The beat that storms me down
I know has come here wanting

Wanting doesn’t mean you’re going to get it

You may get something else
and have to like it

or you get nothing
not even what you didn’t want

I can’t think about superlatives
at times like these

By the time you find the word you want
the language has moved on

Your every thought is now
grounds for offence

(10 September 2018)

 


 

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