TRUE GRIT

New Poem written this morning. True Grit. HUDD home in North Las Vegas. Then home in Hurricane, Utah. Returning home early from Mormon mission by choice. Disgrace. Trying to understand how to become more manly. The big America dream as immigrants. Samsara meat wheel. And so on . .

learning to fail better

Published by Marcus Slease

Born in Portadown, Northern Ireland, Marcus Slease has made his home in such places as Turkey, Poland, Italy, South Korea, the United States, Spain, and the United Kingdom – experiences that inform his nomadic surrealist writing. His latest book is Never Mind the Beasts (Dostoyevsky Wannabe 2020).

One thought on “TRUE GRIT

  1. You got it, Man. You are not invisible, now. Your broken heart, bleeds into new True Grit, making it soft blue earth to mold and enfold and nourish that empty space of what should have “been” but never really was, is. But still, longed for . . . You are not invisible now. I see you. Lovely, Man.

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