When Action speaks.

When actions speak, words need not peak.

The dead are the dead—alive, we seek.

All seen and unseen, the paths repeat—
Or beat your own; with your tools, you tweak.

Anything’s possible—everything reeks.
Cold ice of a moment turned sudden heat.
One person—a fleet.
One word—a sheet.

Listen close, lil’ bubba’, it’s small, discrete...
Delete.

Sea of fish in the ocean—many to eat.
Hook, or net—jump in my seat.
Gutted body, spiced and slick with vitamin D—
scaled, impaled, cooked clean... and served as poetry.