Sally Ann
I wrote, Sally Ann, I wrote:
Shot from the cannon of abuse
as unwise missiles do.
Course set.
Explosive clouds that mark
your video destination.
Experts interpret,
pricking with laser markers,
inflated dialects
of doom.
Hitting the target, you
splinter, a spectacle
of fire and of smoke.
The molten ashes,
the cold metallic remnants,
the core...
A peace accord
between you and your self.