Sunday, February 27, 2011


Heavy Metal Rainfall
Upon a conduit of steel,
Hold me up, push me high,
Only inches separate what is
And what is higher,

Thunder from the sky above,
Penetrates the vestige known so well,
The groundwork quaked with premise,
The setting altered time and place
Thematically dislocated, dissolving from the stage

A thumping baseline
Quivers through the ear
Resonating in syncopated irony
Fluctuates the man with polarity of choice,
 Retreat or for scabbard reach

The assault at this point is unknown,
To forecast now, premature, it could call upon
The scholar or the man unskilled,
The former would develop strategy he could not apply,
The latter could not devise, but come the moment he’d react

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