Lines Thin

Tireless, but I’m wired, stress.. Dive
Into the fire’s press; caress my
Notebook, as I have to capture it
All.. Hope I can laugh when trapped in
A fall. No time allowance to stall.. People
Finally reading my releases.. Criticized if
My other Self sneezes. No idea what meek
Is. Followed by cameras, lights.. I stand
To fight.. Tell Big Brother switch rudders. On my dish,
Numbers. Challenge mathematical laws–
Trapped in habits of flaws– look at
Skeptics, flashed and racked in a draw.
My pen grip, a shark’s jaw.. Hemingway.
Anyway, when we lay, tighten my scope.
Steal to my ideals, see how it feels.
Then my presence repealed, but they’ll never
see me squeal.

1/14/13

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mikemadigan

Writer/Blogger - bottledaux.com

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