PUNK POETRY: No Free Rides for Horrible Bastards by J. Archer Avary

I am motionless 
until I move 
I am emotionless until 

I explode into a foaming rage
at a total stranger
in the co-op carpark

where my step-daughter 
picks my drunk ass up 
from the micro-pub 

she’s just a whiff of a girl 
but she puts me
in my place


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