Bluto, the world’s strongest man, could tear bread loaf-sized pieces off a steel-belted tractor tire with his bare hands.

But he could not lift a single smithereen of his sensitive Piscean heart when Lily, the luscious, leggy Leo trapeze artist, left him for steely-eyed Arien Karl, the literate and literary lion tamer.

Horoscopic Circus, Act II

She was a Cancer Dragon. Like catnip to the Piscean Tiger, whose feline DNA was his Achilles heel. Especially when she wore heels. And nylons. The end is nylon, he thought. I love you she said. I love you more he affirmed. And firm he soon became. Then being the ringmaster, she opened her mouth and incinerated him -- as only dragons can….

The little things I do
I mind.
The many things you do
I mind.
Though I'm a bunch of
Smithereen
I am here to garner my
Remains with success.

I believe in ghosts.
I want to.
I believe in all gods; therefore

None.
I believe in both the survival and
Demise of Mankind.

I believe in the perfection within
Every shard and smithereen.  
Existence is

Excellence.
Stop. Stop correcting yourself
To pieces.

You don't need to drop those sizes.
You don't need those wrinkles
Gone.

You don't need that stanza to
Rhyme; to reverberate; to shine
Standing out like

Embraces on a battlefield.
Everything created is an
Infant. Approve of it.

Adore it. Admire it.
Love your child, and
Forgive it. For

All it
Refuses
To be.

Havoc wreckage, splintered fragment, crystal night in tears.

Fire psyche; smithereen bleeding, riot pool, drowning fear.

Rubble silent, ash to history, coal dead heartbeat, mercy naked, stoic deaf their ears.

Seething poison, putrid spirit, strangled fist of screams.

Freudian shiver, Rorschach shadow, endless victims, nightmare dark age dreams.

Furious glimmer, chaos ******, satanic ember, ingle pyre glow.

Blood drip savage, monument guttered, statue smashing, rotting bankrupt soul.