[M] Whirda's Poetry & Prose

[PepsiWhirda]

Prison-Padded

Once, I was the heavyweight
champion of the world. I was
a marvel in the public eye, but
I was shedding weight classes
like snakeskin, molting down to
featherweight, talon-gouging
new notches in my belt to hold
up my genes, and what was I?
What the fuck was I but another
bottom feeder scurrying along the
sediment, trying to find meaning
in anything and too blind to see the
importance of everything.

For once my pockets are prison-
padded, but I’d give up this whole
head start for another shot at the
champ.