the state of it all
forever afraid
of the dark
they’re always
waiting for
these certain poets
to snap
a nightlight
on for them
& the nightlight poets
do just that
appeasing them
w/ their
feeble little glow
& they all applaud
the tiny lights
& smile
falsely unafraid
yes, that’s the state
of it all now
none of them
ever thinking
to braille
the goddamn
darkness
no, not even
fucking once
Horror Sleaze Trash 