Like a Biscuit

I usually only write poetry at burndoubtstar.art but maybe you guys would like to hear what I am up to lately stylistically. So here is a taste:


Dumbfounded in Finland

My favorite country

My favorite accent Dutch

The favorite weather he listed on his obituary before he were dead feigned

Foreign travel documents to research my birth, deem’d boring, and how to undo it;

Better yet, to silence me with a muffled rush

And to send back to grace my pleasures

The scrawling on the page of things that he does not wish to know

Because he knows where I go when I go into written word

He knows where I go when I study script

He is not my keeper but he owns me, stalks me, angry all the time

He is angry that I know his secret:

That he is full of murderous rage

And about to pop

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