Misery Poem by Scott Stevenson

a moment in passing up the tender mercy
while sheets of iron guard the hall's
empty branch of government
a hinge on fused frosted dead parts
young flesh and the hurricane in
a heart hardly worth hearing

plastic knives of ancient ruins
paired with wires for radio pranks
and logic in robbery
a second tagged on to
the end of another eleventh hour
to fan old tired flames

holes poked out of grievance
automatically sewn on without help
the pimple in unprotected sight
that shines in dire sunlight
glass covers it up, deflects blind bullets,
on the eve of a forgotten anniversary