Blessed Drudgeries

You crease  over the trepidation,
you crash  the lonely  breath—

the breath  is wicked,
the griffin culled,
each leakage  is repented  like spored worm.

You butcher the trapezoids
with blessed drudgeries,

you symbolize and crow—

you have bribed a wetted  laxative
in the winter,
it is hyphenated out,
whizzes up and siphons,
a guilty storm

***
Hey all, Here is poem 20. I like how this one turned out. It is has a nice cadence to it. I don't have much to say right now.

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