Crosshairs

Ethology - part II

 

hear that sound ?

 

blood from ruptured ears

 

primal drumming

 

red-eyed rage richocets

 

do-gooders dodging

 

smith and wesson punctuation 

 

inside question marks and lies

 

 

its the sound of one brick snapping

 

a corner stone mortar wash out 

 

its called the limit -

 

 how far ?

 

 how deep ?

 

 how much !!!

 

 

its anger hovering

 

over the button of no return

 

 how hard !

 

 how quick !

 

 

split hair trigger

 

middle fingering

 

quick draw tempers

 

 

  "rage is the rage"

 

 

its the door man spitting on sidewalks

 

the blame game dealt in one suit

 

of studs and queens  

 

 

   spinning

 

 

its a dreamland in quicksand

 

sucker punch poets

 

peeling sleepless nocturnes

 

a cataclysmic chorale

 

shadow casting on deaf walls

 

archvillains typecast in lead

 

broken glass and bad luck  

 

a showdown at last call

 

hit pause

 

listen

 

Id what it is

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[emmajoy]

' its the sound of one brick snapping ~ a corner stone mortar wash out ~ its called the limit ' .. weak, strong, past, present. Seems to me that your words are saying that no matter what, it all means the same - nothing. Words for words' sake, dark, ungentle and emotionless for the sake of filling space. Actions acted out, insincere, meaningless.

[John Jackson (El Juero)]

This is one that hangs with the reader (me) for days and days. Intricate, with a subtle complexity that gives pause.

[Chris Smith Welshpoetcs]

Being caught in the cross hairs of the writing battle of wills.