What of a broken place, 

ceaseless actions of muted despair, 

. . . soundless in a crack’s somber crevice, 

shattered starless like windows struck by light 

reflecting from a murky mirror’s throw of shine 

floating on summer’s torrid air? 

What of a broken place, 

where shreds of slinky pages go missing, 

desperate for nails and hammer, 

abandon under gaze . . . brushed off! 

What tried companion shall it know? 

Will it listen to the doubtless future . . . twice plastic, 

fragile like off-colored pandemonium, 

 salty secondhand poems, 

and paucity swatting at dinner flies made of razors 

Does it regain balance, 

maneuver uneven without limits 

slanted between the offbeat lines 

What of a broken place, 

intoxicated by blight, 

bragging of neglect 

How hard could that be? 

                              Alvin Le Blanc, III Copyright2020 Wordville Poetry: Kool B