Poems are not my strong point

In effect, me publishing a poem is scarier than running naked through a city mall, zigzagging and starjumping.

This is called outline.

an exoskeleton on a gritty linoleum floor

shell of a life born and died in a day

punctuated by procreation

and

predatory appetite

left to lie an outline of a life lived

to be crushed into grit on a linoleum floor.

Tom