Saved in falling

A worthless huck, was what he was,
saw him nude and made him love.
His black upright inkspot junk
saw him through and called his lust
like something stumbling drunk
into the festival of his spunk.
What will his audience intuit
he thought of before the jump?
A freeway, happy hour at five,
his fingers primed on his dive
into the cars that loved him through
his mothering blood concaved blue
from the welfare of his schooling
which taught him right,
& caught him true.

Hey, if it’s shit, I’ve got an excuse.


~ by Jeremy on September 2, 2010.

One Response to “Saved in falling”

  1. Slips off the tongue easily. Good concept told clumsily. Not ‘shit’ – different.

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