Lonely Streets,Veins Become

Panoramic collision with stories poppin Off like rounds from a .90(cal.) machine gun. Demented shrapnel shooting out in every direction: Wiping out all that scoff. Luxuriant antipathy of all things Intrudes at times. Crashing every lousy star melted sings! Summer begins its end & fall starts Its chimes. Carving into stone, the message once Muses belted. What lonely streets, veins become As if her touch felt like a spent gun. _