Secret Words

Poem By Joe Howell

words that bend mortal men
creates universal haphazards,
holds seconds in grasps of
meager men that are stove up in
looking glasses and hairpieces

words that poets scream for
searching at midnight,
looking under great oak trees
walking red clay roads, driving convertibles
calling radio stations, needing
social interaction

the drink of bums with PhD's
doctors that prescribe pain-
killers for themselves, liquid
abbreviations and adjectives

They are just words
Written in Braille on the rings of halos

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