1 min read

My chief beef with the Queens brat
the witless witness war as a wonder
a theater of tactical thunder
that triggers only the instant,
and concussing continuity
conflict becomes a crusade

ask your aide-de-camp
query the rank and file
if they can see your winning smile
in the shell casings
that propel pain and punishment
without a plan

absent a precise goal, Goldilocks
even precision weapons stray
and might fades away
your measure taken
your method seen mad

NaPoWriMo 8 2017

I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.

Comments? Cool!

%d bloggers like this: