The Poetry of
Michael G. Khmelnitsky

day after day seat and place
persona to face is no more than a mask

the ferry ferries and the bag bags
the musician goes through his tedious task

fingers serving orgasms and delicious snacks
rhyme transcending rusty mental sprockets

like a bilbul to a terrapin
and all i can think of from inside my pocket

is the apricot skin's delicious sin