Monday, July 2, 2012

A Poem by David S. Pointer

My Middle Ages History

My love is persona
Non grata. My dog-eared
Valentines from first
Grade have been ex-
Communicated by Cupid’s
Official court. The broad-
Barbed head of my arrows
Whistle and whirl multiple
Mach speed into new tactical
Theories through Robin Hood’s
Hollywood Forest. At the heart’s
Intermission, I go door to door
Selling sixteenth century war
Hammers at discount prices.
Cheerleaders have been known
To launder the school principal’s
Mistress money in order to
Purchase them for self-protection.
Early examples of my affection
Were spanned by hand. The
Eternal smile, I once wore was
Rack and pinioned into place
So that I could have promises
Accurate at over 400 yards. The
Precursor to my initial despair
Over an unforeseen breakup
Was inlaid with sheets of emerald
And gold, and equipped with a
Double string for propelling dog
Bones, driveway stones, or
Whatever I had on hand. Best
Of all, if I am lying streyght,
Heavy, strong with a good long
Grained slightly tapered love it
Means neither sharp strynge nor
Absence of a shooting glove
Will pull me back from loving

David S. Pointer was the son of a piano playing bank robber who died when David was three years old. David has somehow managed to contribute more than his fair share to a lifetime of failed relationships.

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