More Poetry
RC deWinter
fatigue is
my raincoat it’s been
a wet spring
sending a
flood of synthetic dancers
politicians and
heretics
raining down shoddy
counterfeit
coins pour from
hell’s own slot machine into
the lap of the world
this is a
near miss comedy
a picnic
of nothing
but yesterday’s cold coffee
and raw injustice
all bridges
burnt windows nailed shut
strings pulled tight
our one brief
opportunity squandered
in petty squabbles
when hunters
the dark efficient
shepherds of
the order
emerge from the wood armed with
the cross and the sword
i flirt with
the thought of being
a hero
but there will
be no medals awarded
for speaking truth now