storm surge

hatred and anger share the couch feeding
each other bon-bons of bile and resentment
while they remain in reality small
with each bite they grow exponentially
until the force they exude coats even
in the corners of the shelves with a sharp
acidic green the porcelain knick-knacks
which scream to be broken repeatedly
across the tile floor until walking out
would serrate our feet to bloody stumps
before we could reach for solace outside
within the cold redemption of dissolution
the room awaits the storm’s abatement and
the waves’ astringent purge crashing ashore
(September 12, 2013)

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