“bang (with a gun)”
broke like fine china.
cracked irreparable.
fallen from a hand.
glue or blood?
hold it tight.
glue or blood?
all uselessness.
all foolishness.
all our crippled tongues.
nothing good will come
from a bang with a gun.
broken. broken. broken.
like the night. broken.
like momentum. broken.
cracked and raw and burnt;
a rancid ash.
cinder and spit, yet
memory of some gilded edge.
yeah, a memory of gold.
who cares that it never was?
her porcelain bone, blown,
and that ricochet echoes.
i dropped a dinner plate (bang)
and thought of her
while picking up the pieces.
bone white shards and my blood
red blood.
i should put on a bandage,
but me, being me,
i dressed it in a poem.
written on 09/18/2014 by: Matt Kane