The Undedicated Sonnet

I sat the stump alone crying, crying, The wooden remnant dead of sanguine axe; I clawed at eyes aggrieved drying, drying, My freshly streaming tears like flowing wax. I clenched my fists as though hiding, hiding, A secret borne of love and hateful spite; But the leaves lay dead and gliding, gliding On winds that …

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Mercenaries of Art

by Jasmine Kaur Prevaricators Heretics Radicals Forsooth, even these labels fall short For these mercenaries of art Are complicit to a different crime every day Intransigently transient Switching tastes sporadically For fear of over-familiarity with one Switching choices, opinions, stances Whenever their conscience bids them to For in their heads, to make an uninformed choice …