Concrete language poured
metaphors like dogs upon the moor
chasing harsh, dank moonlight shadows
with a pack of adjectives
Over the edge phrases sank with nouns
in frigid silence to the sea floor
where a distant window light of day
shown through the surface
Constructions of language pieced together
clause witz moments where apostrophes maligned
good intentions to take the fortress
of paragraphs just before day break
Artillery lobbed full political power
like similes with shrapnel analogies
of military grade plosives puffing up
dust high in the air
The conquest was recurrent
stakeholding putters, castled
duffers duffing the day
seized with tomes of data
Dogs ran wild unleashed
to the front of cold loam
far from dry, bright yellow dirt
casting clashing worlds into the sky
Each plan for retainers
holding back the analysis for constellations
made a check of satellites above the fertile
high country of conflict
sentenced to lie.
No comments:
Post a Comment