I have lost the Umph from my words.

I lost it somewhere in the space between sending and waiting and waiting and sending.

The Umph slipped out my mouth from my lips to the ground and slithered down drains.

It used to come from my toes and my heart, surge up my legs and avoid my head

It would be out my mouth before I had time to reason and refrain and rewrite.

The Umph leaped out, full of life and soul and rampant passion

Fired from a body restrained and configured to an accepted sexuality, which is no sexuality at all.

But the Umph got up and gave it stick and didn’t give a shit and shat where it went

It didn’t look around to see who was watching, who was listening, and worry about who was not

It just ran out my mouth like words on fire with flames roaring and burning up all regulations

The Umph came straight from my toes to my heart to my mouth and flooded the region

It didn’t always make sense and was random and irrational and murdered mature understanding.

And I’ve lost that Umph from my words that are flat and forgotten, hardly worth saying at all.


Published in SKYLIGHT 47 MAGAZINE.

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