Enemy (For Coleton)

Waiting to pounce on the innocent.

Masked in sinister anonymity.

No kin of Flora or Fauna.

More immersed in piles of

poo-poo than

twenty battalions of 

Keystone Cops. 

No friends of Discourse or Due Process.

Who dreamed them up?

A trick of the light? 

The only thing

we can call them is

Enemy.

 







Comments

Popular posts from this blog

You Turned my Brain into a Mulligan Stew

Sylvia Plath