CRACK THE DEALER

It doesn’t take much

to break my heart

just like the rhomboid ceases

to frustrate the circle

which becomes but one

of the ovals by

classification

and a user becomes

a dealer as the squad cars

draw up and use the front

of the vehicle to

close the door on me.

 

I run for hiding but lone

sailors have not gone for

all the times of all

but for some time instead

when no one knows

who is about to work out

the regument and foolish

type-faced monsters yield to

my strength of hazard

and leave.

 

Safe again I wonder

down the slopes of disdain

to the dealer on the bar

where he holds the satin whip

that makes us all

a-shiver with tidings of distrust

but nonetheless

it is rumoured that no one knows

how to make do with one.

“I’ll take six!”

 

COPYRIGHT BRUCE E SAUNDERS 2019

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