“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Friday, September 9, 2016
Forthright
The T
with its crosshairs
feathered with aech
and too
are used as wings
in a word-Truth-
with you in the middle.
The angels arrow
hits the squinted bullseye,
stuck in a black hole lie.
Painting by Giovanni Baglione, The Divine Eros defeats the earthly Eros (c.1602), [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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