Until Destruction Do Us Part

A poem from On Driftwood and Oblivion

We didn’t even know it would end this way
When it was all said and done
I guess we thought it would be ok
A sort of a twisted kind of fun

You called me just a bad fantasy
But what are you really?
Like a bad dose of ecstasy
Going west like Horace Greeley

The irony is we both laid it on thick
Slapped in the face like Skin Bracer
A history unlearned by a dirty trick
But you handed out the magic eraser…

Read more in the collection, On Driftwood and Oblivion