By She tried to write a poem
but it sputtered out in prose
and she’d grown dependent on
a store that now was closed
oh, where was she supposed to go
when all she had was this?
a burnt up love and restless eyes
the romance died in popping fits
All
her
loves
now flowed
down
some
drain
an unworthy end to what once was solid
melting waxen sculptures of the two
once lovers
locked
in a stubborn war where
nothing
is
good
enough
“So let it die!”
she screamed into the ether
leaving people running scared
the mothers held their children
as if hellish mortars fell
She tried to write a poem
but it sputtered out in prose
to win this round of love roulette
she knew she’d have to lose
a raised sword arm bisects the sky
to give you just a clue
she’ll bring it down on Isaac
and give Abraham the news
Abbey Pope 