Gord

2014-08-21 12:00 am

No gain for loss,
No pyrrhic victory,
Due course.
No force of sympathy,
homeopathy, anthropology,
from the horse.
No, mostly poor choices.
Voices ringing with phones dead.

No voices in his head,
Scream morality.
of course.
No soldier gains a victory.
sans cost.
None recognize the courage,
of Hailey's comet.
So the gunfire blazes onward.

Amongst the slain, are the slain.
Those who shoot have bullets same.
My Deschamps is but modified Spinoza,
Which I modify to fit in holster,
As exactly as I imagined her,
Far above a reasonable caliber.
For a man who lacks resources,
For as a woman he lacked chorus,
Pestilence amongst the formal courtships.