David Nelson Bradsher
David Nelson Bradsher Poems
Comments about David Nelson Bradsher
With spite,5: 30 in the morning came,
alarmed, and jarring to his drowsy senses,
bringing to bear the morning-force of blame
that punched and powered through internal fences
into the freedom of impassioned voices,
a tit-for-tat crescendo, borne of rage,
confusion, and regret (from faulty choices) ,
and panic from a man who knew his age—
and knew, too well, that he had lagged behind
the social norm of seeking out a wife
to mitigate the failure of a mind
too weary of the vagaries of life,
and too resentful to deny his own
prophetic dream that he ...
The statues stand like rusty gods
in silent judgment, sternly cold
in squares, in parks and college quads,
debased with bird shit, dirt and mold.
The pigeons peck at Lincoln’s feet
or squat upon a soldier’s head.
Let’s nix the seed, and let them eat
a ration of unseasoned lead.