Heart Hertz

Free Verse ReVolution

I’ve been through my
hurt with
fine
tooth
combs,
in poems cross-bred with prose, late autumn duets with forty below, and still
I know there’s
a heritage
to hope,

of both heresy and
horror,
but yet also
heirs who
eloped from courtship
duties,

albeit futilely.

They came
to be known as
loosely
associated with
spiritual
growth.

Philosopher kings
once loathed
for their
luxury
atone for
senselessly
fucking
whores of
human
whim.

It’s in
glimmers of crowned
regret,
the expectations
refresh to
include
an empathy
undressed before
a thousand eyes.

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