BLANK

I hate moments like these
My mind becomes naughty
The devil sets in
Lays his tools
Begins his work
With all the tools being made
I become the devils workshop.
When I have no thoughts
In times like these
I think about s-e-x
Long distance shit
And
The bitterness in everyman’s soul

Hate.

©thelma migue, 2010

Written for John Kiarie.

From the cizoepoetry collection