a broken crown

the pitch black
send the pitch back
the balled up paper pitched
the road to hell paved with pitch

you’re a shook fist
you’re a to-do list
you’re self-inflicted in-fighting
you’re block and you are writing

peel away the persiflage
words are poorly made camouflage
launching a glossolalia barrage
trying to find out who’s in charge

we are descending down
into a self-inflicted drown
into a sunset broken crown
a perpetual frown