Being shown the halted frenzy of stamps of copper coils,
the broken and inter-belated, witch-crafting and unharnessed,
durable hatred of a man other than my own self, from hither clear on, 

and mostly past, tither for a provocative dime

stolen from God and all crime.
Past option, being broken to crushed screeching defeat, defines, as force beyond,

considerable relent, vented to me, a full thirty years before any option was to be offered from the very tongues of disguise, re-ordinance.

All feature past prime, except a land down under,

promised as a courted and defined nothing, short of determined hostility,

course in prescribed absence of consent.

He told me, with passport in hand,

be everything you want, right now, and 'hand the keys to me'.

Hissing women of dusk 'til dawn, crawled and mentioned,

with instantly exhaustive assault, without ever an attempt, interest,

or pliability, and one woman told me to know wherever I went,

from an historical perspective my curtains were to remain closed.

The deficit of reason was excellent for your deaf roar and Christening of luxury.

I declare you smitten with smarts and curtail your wanting to know more that you have already known.  Why rise with such rank, cutting off your cross?

Danced the splintered glass, she bounced and pronounced each crashing plate.

Now for me, I have nothing, she pined.

With silly grins for explicit sincerity, announced so frequent, she would not end until everybody hates you as much as I do.  Assailed life long by the city girl, cheerie as the day is long, the vice of her promise, over the air wave, the box of glass, promised she would when her hair was fully grayed.  The announcer of deceit did forecast a rose red sky.  Shh, if the twenty gone, heralds wind, Shush, and shush again.  I have written each and every one.  I will. I intend to. She Other, not She First, not She Second and not She Third.  Her long, marvelous tresses, dreaded; time spent waiting for something to happen that just would if you could, was graying, and with nothing but time on her hand, Maya knew flying fast meant taking it first, having her head shaved, bald.  Her humiliation was not yet complete.  Needing consoled she requested we screw; frank and sloppy.  Nothing could have been further from the truth.  Her breasts were wonderful and large.  I loved their presence.  The lemon verbena was happiness when she opened the envelope.  My mothers age, the warmth of my gratitude fell farther than before, but a later session was precluded for quick seconds.  When you cannot stand, where do you fall.

My broken hide, the city girl confessed feeling this her best redeemer.  I would not have had to, had she not carried the situation on for decades.  Let it go says the sayer.  In 1982 she was screamed at her.  In 1990 she confronted.  In 1998 she spoke for months proving she was in 1999 and beyond.  2016.  2002 wants a bite. 2006 she lies repeatedly in public.  2007, 2008, 2009, dines on children.  Announces from six to thirteen, his broken hide could not possibly.  Same time same station.  2013.  Give him some friendly sticks.  We promise it is fine.  We all know you will make it.  From within her own purse, cocaine and cannabis.  However, the knuckle head loves a challenge.  It does not matter. Quiet, Shh.
I was told when I was four.  Instead of education and direction, the "away from the rat race" rat ran on the hamster wheel.  If you cannot figure out what happened in all that time then don't say anything.  I was shown for months.  You showed me video.  You threatened me.  You handed over things to people who never handed things over to me.  You showed me that no one would ever give the gifts you gave to give me and then ordered me to not only meet them but because of the descriptions of two years, six, then nine, thirteen and then fine sand could not describe my prefect feelings in numerical notation.  Do not rise.  Do not shine.  You were fine.  We saw.  We also told you we were going to edit all video in 2006.  That is what makes it fine.  Because we say so.  Time from mountain to dust.  You were explicit.  You threatened to kill me so many times telling me I could not.  Not even stay.  Not even run.  Not even close my eyes.  Not even sigh.  Not even question.  I was tossed because the linear voice had seen several years of my future, unknowing and unbelieving left me sitting because she thought I was going to be able to give her my luggage.  Yet owned, yet possessed.  A gift received from the idea that it had already happened.