A name lit from within
by a fire, a furnace
of ambition.

A face strong as canvas 
grown stiff in freshened air, 
as amenable 
to tacking

as any other sail. 

Words, honey crust
on the tongue, 
poison or balm
or both — and

the backside
of this sugared speech
carrying all the vermin
such sweetness at once
and conceals.


About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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