Kenneth, loves satire and writings to spotlight others, but he also has an "addiction" so to speak, to dramatic and abstract/prose poetry.
Whenizit ever appropriate to weave lewdness in a crowd,
Knowing the scars hidden beneath the skin?
Whoizit who stomps without care or caution to the door,
Heaving braggart-like threats to servant girls?
Whereizit stated within law, mortal and sinister alike, taking
A liberty slack with cloak in midnight black?
Whyizit normal for sailors walking from the sea, dancing shanties,
And drinking old whiskey in steps not seen?
Howizit the sunshine fails the shadow slim, and gleams slightly
O'er the raven's nest in Oak saplings down the lane?
© 2018 Kenneth Avery