The clock sheds seconds,
the ball put into play,
the handoff, fumbled,
the play, ruined,
the night, a loss.
----------
My heart, on the sidewalk,
My words, falling from my lips,
My bile coating both,
As a I vomit a string of emotion.
----------
a beer, or three,
a shot, or two,
a word, or seventeen lines,
clarity, understanding,
agreement, tenuous,
timing, off.
----------
The bull in the china shop can't distinguish the Ming Vase from the cheap porcelain. He's reactionary, feeling cornered, his rampage unable to distinguish what is easily replaceable from that which is priceless. His aim is escape, his intent a clear path, and yet, all he ends up with fragments, once valuable, left from a careless rampage.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment