The Elbows of Sentries


Nothing is soothing about barbed wire. Brand new


it may glisten like the cold heart of steel does but it will never


be your fuzzy peach, your sycamore tree. Rusted, it stains


your fingers – orange like a sun setting so far on the horizon


that the city haze shades it especially for you and your tired eyes.


Wire can be the vehicle for the hook that sacrifices the bass for you.


Wire can be the filament that brings light to your darkness, or song


on the wings of that sweet Baby Grand. Wire can suspend your linens


until the day kisses them dry, but barbed will only shred and mangle.


Barbed will only tear and tangle. It keeps the cows from straying


and the ponies baying, the convicts from second chances, and the elbows 


of sentries on tables. Each machined little point is adept at fulfilling 


its mission. Keep Out! Stay In! Get Out! 


Only an ice storm could shroud it in beauty, only a madman 


or a sad man would use it to keep him from flying apart. 



About theminstrelscitadel

In search of courageous souls who aren't afraid to dig a little deeper and have a conversation about all manner of things. Rant, rave, debate, discuss... let's do it!
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.