That Dull Look
Wipe that dull
look off your multiplying face:
as your bare
shouldered enemies finger falling leaves
see their jeweled claws
sharpen in reflective eyes
Recognize the
lyrical logic inpinging your safety
as agents elect
enameled masks from wallspaces of spy craft
and enter a
nurseryful of rare tree specimens like rats
Extol silence as embroidered
prayers are knifed to the walls
when the armada of
trumpeters bewielder brass fantasias
and stare into the
neutral slough of despond that enveigles you
Helmets shield your
brain beyond numbskull pertinence
with fingerling tears
of sobriety, foil the labyrinth’s mud
dry-eyed and
bushy-tailed and erupting with footfalls
Erase the dull
look from your subdividing masked pain:
your stark-armed nemeses
twinge cloth-shedding limbs
looking for a ruby
to emerge quickly from the unseen
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