the handwriting is weak
never mind the sword,
bold (supposed)
and bored
torrid arrives derived 
from reverie, squeezed
dry-
imposed, and 
implied
past the expiration relied
and lied, again
the habitual sin of
never, just enough
but enough of
that
and back to regularly 
scheduled inaptitude 
does the rhapsody improve
or decline
something shy of sublime?
applaud the hits
and miss
the goings-on
actualized
by the passerby’s
that supply 
the backdrop of extra
being,
without which
we might never survive-
so cry,
out and inside 
and whine
for a life deprived
with all the wonder why
and, why, oh why,
can this not be 
infected with perfection 
don’t have to look 
to see-
meanwhile,
the unsung sing
and breed the
feed
of want and need
the hungry and greed
afflicted,
likewise believe 
in documentation, 
if not in deed,
indeed-
rejoice, however,
for forever,
I’d imagine, 
as the betting man,
that those who stand  
against, if only 
subdued by induced dues
of lonely bars,
of theaters far
and apart
from all the hip consider 
happening.