You are where you are.
Only on the edges of the edge
will you truly feel alive.
so said the brutish souls
grubbing through the mud and oil
spitting blood and drowning
low in anger flood.
sneering at the lonely stride
the boneless trudge
the spineless push
towards a vacant ledge
like aimless grudges bent
before a shameless judge
the honey thieves are out of breath,
and chicken sad with thoughts of death.
one step forward then we’re all gone
one turn back and everything
survives.