The Dash Poem by Teresa Pelka

Decadent, if bespattered or splashed,
Sparks off a slim difference in thinking,
All-passionate, yet sober ― the dash:
A hero sentience might go a-blinking,
With flippant, rinky-dinky inking.

Only if fit, may experts agree,
If in no awe of things realistic,
Or pith of matter militaristic,
Take a long run, or ― just one heat
To grapple the type of chemistry.

I keep the place and honest length
Out of sincere sentiment.