Anger to Villains is Quiet Repose: Washing in Dirty Waters

Anger to Villains is Quiet Repose

It asks not for a Reason anymore.

Rehearsed in Previsions of your Discourse,

And yet I still took the Bait? A Thorough

Half-Race Mulatta now made in the Stripes

of a Hunter such I can seize them now

and here and for seven lines more. Bogan,

ma Femme and a long-admired Swordsman

who Earned her distinctions through Wars of words.

Her Etymological Bomb avec moi,

Hoisted on my shoulder, Rightwing like yours

Leftwing Reverses in Theorums of Sound

Patios and in Rhythms strung to the Seasons.

A Poet who works learns the Weather.