His Sport

Ask ye I, Shame
What is it you want of sport with me

A story to tell
This cloddish girl

Oh! How she fell for parallel universe truths

A jovial tale
Where thee, with all thy dark proclivities
Shouldst mute and suffocate her good heart?

Keep Fallin’

I am ashamed at myself

For truck headlights I’ve studied from the front porch swing
That turned-tail and ran

For flowers I’ve cultivated from the heart for us
That went wholly uncherished

Heavy rains pour down
These dancing feet now dampened

I am ashamed at you