I thought there were casques

that debonairs

brought to legionnaires

and said “This is worth a centurion”.

The Family of Drivel

laughed as their uproarious

Laughter quakes

were dribbled like Wilson balls

and only the Italians said blame Filipinos

for mistrust and misfortune

as they play

Chess, not Checkers

to circumvent a path

meant for Redemption

and my Mother

has been my same Mother for

23 lifetimes,

now.

I used to think years emptied pockets into the rich.

Sold out, born with silver spins and golden grills

Only to bite the spoon and wear the teeth

with prosperous

rags-to-riches in-lays

where I thought

a chain snatched

was a chain taken back

and instead

I rather lick ice cream cones

than announce

I’ve come to be inspired again

After tireless creative bursts

that led me to an era

week-to-week

and I still have no golden eggs in my basket

and the bunny of wrath

seems immortal to

my memory now.

and I quake with disability

Living-venomous-beast

that eats seed and quakes

protein

to secure

what litter funding I could think of

for an Uber.

Whatever that means,

because Nietzsche didn’t teach me

Nuthin’ to know

I am the debonair of Matriarchy

to allow

some Old Man

to fall in love with me,

this many times around the bend

of Living & Death.