Once again I stammer
at the words left by
others
I, I, I... can't believe
stepping through
the garden of words
squandered,
slim pickings for
this bird
Nevertheless
do not mistake
my choices, the words
that feather my nest
to be second rate
even as one after
the other is plucked
from the line-up
(they can take
the best of them
and I'll make
something worthy
of the rest)
Call it a public service
Call me a first responder
Never have words
been under such
a threat
The most pithy,
the most hackneyed
march of one word
horribly placed after
another (free will
meets a firing squad
where each gun hasn't
the stomach and even
Hallmark dodges
a hit, where remorse
is lost among the
letters