filipendulous

<p>someone teach me the reasons and not the lesson…</p> <p> </p> <p>‘filipendulous’</p> <p> </p> <p>tired. spell it. two vowels and thirty-three bowed vertebrae like overpacked luggage from my spine. i’m good keeping possessions but what i own ain’t mine. a chest with a hole and no room to fit in. one more scotch or bourbon don’t ask for reasons i wouldn’t know where to start and if i did you wouldn’t listen. a shadow scabbed over shouldn’t be picked. so what to do when the lies itch? hard work pays off in the end, my father once said, then i laid with his stiff cold corpse and the times told tomorrow as a boy no longer applied. so now a man i am lost holding an iou with no bank to deposit or account to withdraw. my smile often keeps the corners but i’ve no face to back it up.</p> <p><br></p> <p>&#39;filipendulous&#39; </p> <p>hanging by a thread</p> <p><br></p> <p>#barflypoet</p> <p>#josephapinto</p> <p>www.josephpinto.com</p> <p>© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.</p> <p>*</p> <p>&#39;From My Front Steps,&#39; &#39;Scotch and Scars&#39; and &#39;A Distilled Spirit&#39; poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.</p> <p>*</p> <p>www.etsy.com/shop/JosephPinto</p> --- Support this podcast: <a href="https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/joseph-pinto3/support" rel="payment">https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/joseph-pinto3/support</a>