Poem
Shrapnel Serenade
What do we destroy with our want?

Your hand-grenaded love songs are sonnets spun from need eviscerating shrapnel leaving trailing notes to bleed
Arrows bowed outrageous confounding ledgers deeply lined striking targets tangentially directed from behind
Passively aggressive lurching metre of 5/4 intersects manic depression stretched sharp across the floor
Prostrate to an opus scrabbled flatly with a quill across frozen seas of whale cry codaed destinies fulfilled
Star-lit pizzicato plucks out our toneless tune radioed past infinity an ashen clair de lune
© Aspen Blue 2020
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