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You heckle and
correct me with a
lecture so maybe you can
collect me into your eclectic
phone book of train wreck
project souls but I reject your
interjections for I suspect
the expected echoed concerns.

Those things will kill you.

You say I’m reckless and I
don’t regret this -
I am electric I
beckon a spectacle
and stretch to connect
with chaos, the hectic ecstatic
the raw untamed rejection
of consequence.

You have no discipline.

Disregarding the next
eccentric I risk neck
after neck I select the
Alive. Like convection I rise
never reflect rectify, at least,
not how you expect
while you strive to protect
feckless me you inspect me.

You are impulsive.

And yes I reckon you are
correct but not out of neglect
do I so blindly trek I am
imperfectly decked out in
life like lipstick on Styrofoam
like nectar like freckles
that speckle my cheekbones.
It is as you suspect I am
Reckless.

 
© Alice K Bradley 2012
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