The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Epiphenomenal

Voices speak
to my waning eyes-
soft sigh stirs 
compassion and
tenderness.

Thoughts scribe
the contrail of my
vitality and vim
marking each degree
upon the arc of Mark.

Dark eddy of my pentip
neither rushs nor restrains
the tic of Isfet
or toc of the truculent
among us.

No, the telling and
the teaching stir not
compassion or
tenderness for those
who feed the lions.
■





©2022 Mark Daniel Milbocker  All rights reserved.