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.
_
Copyright © Merritt Waldon | Year Posted 2010
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