In the weeds
and getting

pretty damn salty–
this week descends

into the colloquial–
no well-heeled

words could ever
do it justice,

too upscale,
they don’t get tired

out, stretched
to cover

multitudes,
they miss nuance,

don’t say just
how weary it gets–

preservation, versus
hanging on

the line–
only one hints

at the prospect
of falling,

but knows that
you won’t,

as you can swing it,
babe, you’re golden–

is hope in
the fucking rough