The Jaw Bone

Once

I’m verily Ashamed
And rather Saddened.
Barely Conquering.

Now to laugh or cry
At the preposterousness
Of we sweet, skipping,
Teen-chance, former hopes
How they’ve dried-
Withered-
Shy the light of
Spite’s exacting honesty
(some penetrating prudence
of time.)

A real love ideal lost forever,
Replaced—
By I don’t know yet -
Thoughtless
Cowardice and avoidance,
Perhaps.

Now
You:
Swollen worry lips,
A frightening smile,
Cancer of the scrimp and save,
Self-rectifying,
Jaw-Bone.
Tits in the
Air-born asses-receptive till the very end;
Inviting all and every,
“Hey baby! ”
Drunk and bald
then
the bar cunts with exclusively big biceps
-hair-product.
about
Deep friends of mine
Kisses and Pulls
now
Old Cabbies
“M-mean and sc-scary.”
Still
better than the sham of hateful youth,
Indeed.

Are we still Virginal? —
no to no
No to No.

Now, whose eyes are these? -colorless and languid.
And, whose breath is this? —bulimic-foul and powder-toothed.

Gosh, this is what love is?
This, this is what love turns into
We past messes it up;
Repugnancy and blame.
And no more fucking apologies.

by R.J. Bevans

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