“bang (with a gun)”

broke like fine china.
cracked irreparable.
fallen from a hand.

glue or blood?
hold it tight.
glue or blood?

all uselessness.
all foolishness.
all our crippled tongues.

nothing good will come
from a bang with a gun.

broken. broken. broken.
like the night. broken.
like momentum. broken.

cracked and raw and burnt;
a rancid ash.
cinder and spit, yet
memory of some gilded edge.
yeah, a memory of gold.
who cares that it never was?

her porcelain bone, blown,
and that ricochet echoes.

i dropped a dinner plate (bang)
and thought of her
while picking up the pieces.
bone white shards and my blood
red blood.

i should put on a bandage,
but me, being me,
i dressed it in a poem.

narrative poem written on 09-17-2014 by: on mattkane.com
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