LASER


Flowing through the inky darkness

Smugly between the ridges of the tongue

And grating the page with its tip

Is my poem.

When the chillness of the tragedy

Travels upstream and clogs

I run my sharp reason

Through the equivocal nib.

My unwet litmus heart stays blue

As it has only been drenched in

A simulated screen-rain.

 

(Language Amplification by Simulated Emission of Responses)

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