By the dawn’s early light
breaking news can break
your heart.
But the heart grows by
breaking
into chamber music.
Breakfast is
buttered by the sun. Humpty-Dumpty
broke into a
yellow scramble,
then reassembled as
omelet, as amulet.
Today has never happened
before
with this morning’s minion
until now with its
bulletin from the East.
This light through yonder
window breaks
more urgently than
ignorant misspelled tweets
giving songbirds a bad
name. Together
we break bread, break into
song,
decontaminate the air with
random grace.
The beacon of America is broken.
How many will it take to change the light bulb?
The beacon of America is broken.
How many will it take to change the light bulb?
Strange how bro and ken spell split,
not as pea soup or bananas
but split into pole dancing at extremities.
The newspaper screams
yesterday’s news
of a brokered convention, of a party
severed at the seams, fracked
of a brokered convention, of a party
severed at the seams, fracked
and breaking like waves on
the beach
with enhanced
interrogation of the shoreline.
Today we break new, go for broke.
Hi Norm, Insightful as usual. (Just so you know I did get it the first time.)
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