Scared

scared,
not of
spiders

or speeding
cars spitting
asphalt,

how martinis
whore inside
her-

not at
fault.

fear comes
from hole,
that grows
wider and
deeper more
i know about
history, and
it’s use
for me

misuse-
abuse,

wrapped in burlap
sack and whacked
for laughs

i’m scared
you see,

of where it
leads.

© Anthony Gorman 2018


Anthony Gorman

Short poems for short attention spans. Come visit my WordPress site, Hands In the Garden at https://handsinthegarden.wordpress.com/.

2 Comments

onellafernandes · February 14, 2018 at 9:32 am

This piece says so much 🙁

    grumpygorman · February 15, 2018 at 2:26 am

    Thank you. I appreciate the thoughtful comment. 🙂

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.