We forge our words
into verbal hammers
and pound and beat
compassions into curses
Among the splinters and bits
of brittle trusts bent
and fragile faiths fractured,
we seize every advantage.
We patch probity
with scraps of profane fates.
Our finished actions
and our spoken words
lay upon the fireplace mantel
with other aboriginal relics
among yields of old exchanges
varnished by vintage quarrels
and exhibited villainously
for viewing and evocation
in circles around the antique clock.
Repetitious, evocative sounds
resound in relentless releases.
The seconds tick-tock;
the hours ding-dong;
the mantel vibrates;
the relics shake.
We rewind
and rotate.
