Tiny Homeless Sestina

[tectak]

Vile acts happened on me, but I can’t remember.
It burns spooning with concrete corners.
I’ll not wash love stains off this sweatshirt.

That’s no beer-belly, but a bag under my sweatshirt
full of long cored apples, fresh as newborns to remember.
Heaven’s joy is dozing warm coffee shop corners.

Words wriggle like fish over my mouth’s corners.
My gait’s marvelous like a dependable old sweatshirt:
I’ve been struttin’ my stuff before even god can remember.

I use sweatshirt food to feed birds on the corner, praying they’ll remember.



*Not a sestina, but a trestina (or, half a sestina, in terms of repeating end words, though with about 1/4th as many lines).

Hi Pand P,
I am not a fan, at all, of "sestinas", or indeed any of the contrived and vexacious forms which exist for no good purpose. There, that's me ostracised
OK. Poetic crit from me,then, is biassed. So take that in to account, please. It is hard enough finding end-line words out of the million-plus available to choose from (if some of the rhyming poetry posted is anything to judge on) so restricting choice to three is bound to mangle the sense of the piece...and so it appears here.
S1 is in danger of reading like something from Stanley Unwin's pen. "It burns spooning with concrete corners"...unable to determine what this means is a problem for me, but also for "it". What it?
S2 continues in similar vein.."full of long cored apples, fresh as newborns to remember". Sorry, but marbling of the girded sling is slithered to the pail, remember. (?)
S3, "My gait’s marvelous like a dependable old sweatshirt:" is a metaphor too far for me...but hell, it ended in "sweatshirt" so kudos to you.
Not for me. Sorry, but you started it.
Best,
tectak