The people who eventually do something great
never look like they were about to

or ever capable of doing it.

They were derelict, strange
on a good day.

I have to remind myself of this fact
to the threading and style death
of my self and, it’s lingerie

I’ll replay the same thing over in my head

until it rhymes
becomes a mime, a mine
a mind

and it will still fall flat
before the pharaoh in my next loves mythos

there is always the danger of merely aging
but we seek something worse –
to lose or win, but still lose, as men.