[The Childless Man] a poem

The childless man ages slower
than one who has given his seed
over to more hostages of this world
his walk is slowed, his breathing
labored, his head high in spite of
the lore when his days are over,
so will be his legacy
the bullet aimed at his heart
has been true, its impact a fatal
honesty,

dawn drank from his soul
all elixir of possibility &
away poured all byproducts
of what could have been before
putrefaction flooded his once viable
limbs

what integrity remains remain
in spite of his hopeless condition
when the physician of subconscious
begins to discuss the weather,
though it had not changed since
he was a hormonal adolescent
his warmth is dependent,
death of green, unsplit trees
pulled tree of the earth it appeals to his eye only
in resemblance to life still
culpable, still complicit on
going on,

crackling screams as fire
consumes it without regard
he cannot say enough what
& why he has been led to
childlessness nor will he bring
himself to face those who thought
he should always entertain fatherhood only plead for aloneness,
until he and the child he never
bore dies within him.


Dontrell Lovet't
from, [The Paper Womb II]