Karlton Kincaid



swerve, skert, I’m driving,
my turn on roads, I’m gliding,
locations known, won’t hide from me,
I’m free to drive, my turn to be.

turn a turn and turn in to be,
on a street, who knows me, hits there feet,
the screams and hugs split concrete,
the city collapses atop of me.

on top of me, she’s first to be,
so special a man’s virginity,
my turn comes first, but am last to leave,
who ever lasts as long, been gone long as me,

as long as I’m home, I’m turnt to be,
no chain can make my spirit bleed,
no blood can turn the water clean,
I’ve washed my hands, can who believe?

Savvinardo Savinci

DOC #657181

Categories: Karlton Kincaid, poems

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