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