“You know that bit where…”
You know? You should.
Or perhaps you never listened well.
meditations on mountains always framed
in ever too-small dusty panes
overshadow what’s what on torn pages
and lamentation devolves to sad.
Or Cupid’s supposed bow, being never sent,
implodes instead and mis-creates
vague memories of irrelevant worlds
once content to be forgotten, but now
at Rainbow’s end the scene is dismal
and missing links are inundating
the sum of the intelligent child.